Shade
by xxWickedWench
Summary: Gangs tied to me that I didn't know existed, a deep-rooted rivalry, mysterious fires, my father's sadism, and my brother disappearing. Sounds fun, I know. But adding a boy in the mix? Well, I guess things can't get any worse. Right?
1. Chapter One

_**SHADE**_

**CHAPTER ONE**

My dearest,

The first thing you ever said to me was "no." Do you remember? You were at this open market in Brooklyn Heights, holding this wicker basket on your arm. You were dressed for the weather, in a frothy summer dress that looked lovely, but you were struggling with the amount of food in the basket.

Do you remember how I came over, ever the diplomat, and asked if you needed any help? Me, with my papes and my dirty street clothes. No wonder you gave me a once over and responded with a very fierce "no." I would've done the same thing.

Funny thing is, I believe that is exactly what attracted me to you in the first place.

* * *

><p><em>Shade's Point of View<em>

"You know, little girl, I'm getting very tired of your sassy little mouth," he told me, breathing alcohol into my nostrils as he held my neck against the wall.

"I'm not afraid of you," I choked out. "_Any_ of you."

My father's friends all chuckled behind him at my confidence. However, nobody would've guessed that I was terrified inside. I hated the way they all leered at me. Just because I seemed helpless now didn't mean I was actually helpless.

My father tightened his grip on my neck and I hissed as he restricted more air from my wind pipe. I looked down, seeing my father's pistol hanging in its place at his hip. All in the same moment, I kicked my father and grabbed his pistol.

He flew backwards and I cocked the hammer, pointing the weapon around at his friends. "I'm going to leave now, and no one is going to follow me," I said, pointing it around at them again before I returned the barrel at my father.

He grinned up at me, not even looking shaken. He could've kicked my feet out from under me but he didn't. "What are you going to do, little girl? Shoot me? I'm the only thing standing between you and at least twenty men. I'm the only reason you haven't been ravaged by them all. You can't kill me, little Shade."

I faltered a little, tears pricking my eyes. I sagged completely, then, and the gun clattered to the ground. I turned and ran out of the warehouse as fast as I could, not giving anyone time to come after me. I wound down alleyways and around corners, going as fast as my legs would take me.

If I got lost myself, then it would be harder for any of my father's friends to find me, too. I hoped.

After a while of running, I stopped short, stuffed my hands in my pockets and ducked into a bookstore I knew very well.

Harry Sweeney, the bookstore owner, tipped his hat at me from behind his counter. "Ah, my Shade, back for yer selections, are ya?"

I nodded and then smiled as he produced a small stack of books, wrapped up like school books with a strap I could use to carry them over my shoulder. I dug into my pocket, counting out the coins on the counter until I had the right amount.

"Thanks again, Harry. You're swell," I told him, taking my books and ducking back out of the shop. I slung them over my shoulder, walking along the busy Brooklyn street, blending right in with everyone.

However, apparently not enough blending, since I was then yanked into an alley nearby and came face to face with four guys I didn't know who were twice my size.

First thoughts? _Well, just great._

One of them grabbed the books I was carrying and tossed them away. I sighed and then flinched as the same guy shoved me against the wall. How ironic was it that when you are abused by a family member, all the abusive people within five miles find you?

"I was planning on reading those, you know," I said casually, looking almost forlornly at the scattered novels in the alley away from us.

"I really don't think you'll be needing those, little dear," the man holding me said.

"Such a cute little thing, isn't she?"

"Oh, come on. Let me get a shot at her!"

The guy holding me scowled at all of them. "You'll all get a turn. After I've had my–"

Too bad he didn't get to finish that sentence. I'd sunk my foot right between his legs. His grip on my elbows slackened only slightly and I took this very opportune time to cut and run like hell.

Back to running. I didn't get very far this time, because he was chasing me down. He was faster than I, so he caught up to me quickly, gathering me around the waist and pulling me tightly against his chest. I yelped and then wriggled against him, gritting my teeth.

"Get off me," I told him through my teeth.

People who were inclined to look in our direction gave the boy holding me odd looks. He let my waist go in favor of holding my elbows, pulling them back slightly, inflicting some pain and reminding me who had the upper hand.

"Just something playful my girl and I do," he smoothly explained to those looking on curiously. "Isn't that right, love?"

"Oh, you are a nasty piece of work," I hissed back. "Now get the hell off me, you ass!"

"No, I don't think I will, kitten. Now, if you'd be so kind as to come with me back to my little alley, we won't have any problems," he whispered against my ear, hauling me around to shove me back around the corner and back to 'his alley'.

"I believe my lady said to get off of her," a new voice said from behind us.

The boy holding me wheeled back around, dragging me along with him, and we both stared at a very determined-looking newsboy with red suspenders and a faux-gold tipped cane. He had his arms folded across his chest and was staring impassively at the boy whose hands tightened on my arms, probably having recognized this boy who stood before us.

...Wait a hot second. _His_ lady? Honestly?

"Conlon?" The boy holding me sounded nervous.

"Indeed. Can you release my Shade now? She doesn't look too happy," the newsboy said oh so casually.

The boy holding me recoiled instantly. I rolled my shoulders around in discomfort and then was once again yanked forward, this time by the newsboy, so he could stand in front of me. I'm sorry. Did it look as if I needed protection?

"You won't tell my boss about this, will you, Spot?" the boy who had been holding me asked, looking incredibly frightened.

The newsboy, or Spot I supposed, pulled out a slingshot. I snorted. _Really?_

"You have two seconds to remove yourself from my shooting range," Spot said casually.

"But, Spot–" the boy sputtered.

"One..." Spot loaded what looked to be a marble and took aim.

The boy took the hint and bolted down the street, though Spot let the marble fly anyways. It hit him square in the back of the head, causing the boy to jump in pain and run faster until he had disappeared down the block.

The newsboy turned around and pocketed his slingshot, looking concerned all of a sudden. "Are you all right?" he asked.

I blinked and then glared at him. "What's your angle?" I demanded.

"Excuse me?" He glared right back at me, the sweetness gone.

"Newsboys, especially _Brooklyn_ newsboys, do not just walk around handing out favors," I said and then gave his shoulders a shove in my annoyance. _"Now, what's your angle?"_

"Maybe I just wanted to help," he said, getting in my face a little.

"I didn't need your help!" I hissed. "I was doing fine on my own. I had everything under control."

"Right. That's why he was about to drag you back into that alley with his stupid thug friends," he said, rolling his eyes. "I think a 'thank you' is in order here. I could've let you get raped, but I didn't, did I?"

I blinked and then stood a little straighter. "Wait a second. You're the newsboy who tried helping me the other day, aren't you?"

"Ah, so little Shade has a memory!" he said, clearly mocking me.

I glared at him again. "And how do you know my name? Have you been following me around or something? Shall I alert the constable?"

The infuriating newsboy rolled his eyes at me. "Come off it, Shade. Don't flatter yourself."

I frowned. "Do I know you, then?"

"No, Shade. You don't know me. But I know you." He smiled at me. "I knew your brother."

Realization dawned on me, then. "Do you know where Caleb is? He ran away two months ago and..." I stopped short, frowning.

"I don't know where he is, Shade," the newsboy told me. "But he's safe. I promise you that."

I nodded slowly, returning to glaring at him because it was just better that way. "Swell. Now, stay away from me."

Attempting a dramatic exit like the heroines in my harlequin novels, I knocked past him, head held high as I strutted down the sidewalk. However, I could feel myself growing weak. The fear and the stress of my current situation – first with my father and his friends and then with the thugs I'd met in the alley – were all catching up to me at the same time. Now that I was safe, my body decided to let go.

My vision clouded with bright spots and then, I saw nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Right. So. I shouldn't be writing this, or posting this, really. I have Sick of Shadows to update, but the muse wouldn't shut up, so here it is. Been wanting to get back to writing the Spotty pants. I've missed writing him since my Spot and Angel trilogy a little while ago. :)<strong>

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :)**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	2. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

It's interesting to me now, looking back on everything, that you and I were brave. You laugh at me as I write this. Why is that? Do you not believe me? No, of course. I saved your life, and you saved mine. Perhaps we saved each other.

You laugh again and say that's romanticizing things. But, I think, that our story is quite romantic, if not completely impossible. But we have done the impossible, my darling. You and me. Forever.

* * *

><p><em>Shade's Point of View<em>

"Good Lord, Spot Conlon, what have ye done tae this poor lass?" A soft, accented voice asked, with an underlying thread of accusation.

"Ain't done nothin' to her, Night. She was just walkin' away and then she just passed out." Defensive. Must be Spot.

The bed or whatever it was under me was soft, and it felt like there was a quilt placed over me, tucked in at the shoulders. They must've thought me an invalid, which irritated me almost instantly. I groaned and cracked my eyes open, staring up and seeing nothing for a few moments until my eyes readjusted, bringing two faces into focus.

I saw Spot first, the rotten, stupid newsboy that had made me faint in the first place. Beside him was a pretty, dark haired girl with a spat of cinnamon freckles across her long, straight nose. The thing that startled me the most was her enchanting violet irises. I'd never seen such an eye color.

"How're ye feelin', lass?" she asked. Oh, and was very Scottish.

I sighed. "I'm fine. Really."

"Didn't look too fine when you dropped in the middle of the walk like you been shot," Spot said coldly.

Both me and the Scot girl glared at him, though he was staring right at me. "Honestly, Spot," the Scot girl said, rolling her strange eyes. She handed me a bowl of chowder from the bedside table and smiled. "Hungry, lass?"

I blinked. I hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday morning, though it wasn't really breakfast. It was a hunk of bread and a peach. I didn't usually eat at home ever. I wasn't allowed. I'd gotten beat quite severely for taking a bite of a pear in front of my father. I never made that mistake again. I ate when I could, and it wasn't often.

"Yes," I said quietly, smiling slightly when I was given a spoon to eat my chowder with. I must've looked a fright, scarfing down my food as if I were starving. However, I supposed I was starving.

The two of them watched me very carefully, as if I was some mental patient in need of watching to make sure she doesn't hurt herself or others. This annoyed me, but I was in no position to protest. Spot looked irritated by something, I noticed, and the Scottish girl looked a bit concerned.

"Shade, when was the last time you ate?" Spot demanded.

I blinked and swallowed my current mouthful of chowder. "This morning."

"Uh huh." Spot wasn't convinced. I didn't blame him. I hadn't even convinced myself. "Your turn, Night."

He then walked to the window and sort of kicked the wall in annoyance, muttering to himself. I felt sort of bad. So he cared. What did it matter? At least someone did.

The Scot girl, Night it seemed, just smiled at me. "It's aw right, Shade. A respect 'at ye 'ave a secret. Secrets are healthy. Noo, eat up."

I was all too willing to oblige this request ad tucked into my chowder, while Night excused herself to walk out of the room. I kept my eyes to myself, though I could see Spot moving towards me from the corner of my eyes.

"Look, Shade. I'm sorry if I upset your earlier. It's just... complicated how I feel about you," he said. "So are you going to tell me what happened? I know you haven't eaten in a while. I know the look on your face all too well."

I shrugged slightly and then set my empty chowder bowl aside, sitting up to push the sleeves of my blouse up. I froze. Bad move. Spot and I both looked down, regarding the lovely lattice of bruises that snaked up my forearms and a nice little slice at the crease of my elbow from where a beer bottle hit me.

"Err – I, uhm, fell down some stairs," I offered lamely.

"You... fell down some _stairs_?"

I nodded fiercely, not able to look up at him. This was my secret, and I wasn't giving it up easily. Besides, Spot was smart. He'd figure it out. I didn't need to tell him. I jerked and gasped when he reached for my arm and he glared at me.

"So, when you fell down the steps, did your landing give you bruises with fingerprints to them?"

I glared at him back and pushed my sleeves back down, covering my secret, as if it wasn't even there at all.

"So you knew my brother? Were you two friends?" I asked, after a few tense moments.

Spot sighed and I watched his eyes leave this place, going somewhere else, to remember. "No," he said quietly. "More like acquaintances, actually." He must've seen my sad expression because he added, "But your brother... I owe him my life. He saved mine, at the risk of his own."

I nodded. "It wasn't the first time he ran in the line of fire for someone else."

"He did this to protect you, Shade," Spot said gently. "He had to leave you, and I know that's very hard to understand. He cares for you so very much. I know that, and I understand your pain."

"You don't understand at all, Spot, unless you've lost someone very close to you," I said quietly. "It's like Caleb is dead. You don't know how empty that makes me feel sometimes."

"Three years ago, there was a fire in Brooklyn. In a house," Spot said, just as quietly. "A mother, father, and two boys. All presumed dead, but your brother saved me and my little brother. He couldn't save my parents. They were in the kitchen where the fire started."

This information floored me. "My mother perished in a fire three years ago as well," I whispered. "No reason, no known cause. Stuff like this doesn't just happen." What other mysteries would arise? Hopefully no more. I couldn't take this.

"Someone was punishing them, Shade," Spot said quietly. "That's what Caleb said to me. Someone was punishing my parents for something, and I wouldn't doubt that they were punishing your mother as well. But for what, and why, I don't know."

I looked up when the door opened up again, and a pretty girl walked in. She had a long dark brown braid swinging down her back and a white apron tied around her middle, making her look a bit like a maid.

"Hello, Shade. I'm Mirror," the pretty girl said. "Would you like anymore food? Night has bread baking downstairs."

I blew air from my lips. "Does anyone have the time?"

Spot pulled a pocketwatch from his, well, pocket. "A bit after one o'clock."

"I have to work at two," I realized and then sat up, sliding out from under the covers. I stood up and made the bed up again, smoothing out the wrinkles.

"Where do you work, Shade?" Spot asked, watching me carefully, I'm sure.

"Harry's Bookstore."

"Down by Columbus Park?"

"Mhm."

"Why don't I walk you there? So you don't get jumped again," he offered, but it sounded like he was informing me on what he planned to do.

Normally, I would have snootily informed him that I didn't need his pity, nor his help. But I didn't feel I needed to defend myself any longer. Perhaps it's because we bonded a little and he knew Caleb. Anyone that knew Caleb well and spoke well of him was someone I could trust.

Spot and I walked down the steps then, Mirror following behind Spot. By the way she'd given him eyes, I would imagine that she didn't trust the guy as far as she could throw him.

"Night, we have to go. Shade has work this afternoon," Spot informed the pretty Scot girl who had pulled bread from the oven and was currently fanning at it when a tea towel.

"A course," she said and then got a knife. She dug around the edges of the bread and then pulled the loaf out, wrapping it up in a linen napkin. She walked it over to us and placed it in my hands. "Perhaps this'll appease yer father."

"Night, I couldn't possibly take this. You've been so kind and–" I began.

"Nonsense!" Night said, steering both Spot and I towards the door. "Noo, Conlon, I 'spect ye tae get her where she needs tae be. On time!"

And then we were standing on her porch stoop, the door slamming shut behind us. Spot snorted.

"Scots," he muttered.

I was hardly listening, however, since I noticed two girls leaning against the nearby lamp post, talking amongst themselves, seeming to be waiting for us. They were dressed funnily in trousers, waistcoats and ridiculous top hats. They both turned at the same time and grinned.

"You're supposed to be in Brooklyn, ladies," Spot said, stepping around me to head down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

"We hopes sir isn't too angry with us," one said, the blonde.

"But we heard about Shade and wanted to make sure she was okay," the second finished, a pretty brunette.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?" I asked, feeling bad for sounding so rude.

"Probably not," the blonde said and the two girls bowed low at the waist at the same time, though their hats didn't fall off. "She's Joker," the blonde said, introducing her friend.

"And she's Wicked," Joker introduced. "We are two sides of the same coin."

"Pickpockets," Wicked added.

"Double trouble."

"Newspaper selling machines."

"Annoying," Spot muttered and the girls grinned the same grin again.

"So where are you guys going?" Joker asked, hooking arms with her counterpart as we all headed down the street.

"Harry's Bookstore," I supplied. "That's where I work."

"Swell!" the girls said at the same time and then laughed as if they'd never done that before, which I thought was funny. Such silly girls.

"So have you lived in Brooklyn long, Shade?" the brunette, Joker, asked.

"All my life," I said, smiling.

"Us, too!" the girls exclaimed and then laughed.

"Are you guys twins?" I asked. They didn't look identical, but if you looked hard enough, you could see some similarities, I supposed.

"Almost," Wicked said, shrugging.

This time I laughed. "How can you be _almost_ twins?"

"Well, we talk at the same time, we're always together," Wicked began.

"We finish each other's sentences and bother Spot Conlon in the exact same way," Joker finished.

I glanced over at Spot to see that he was, indeed, fuming and it made me smile. "Swell."

"Isn't it?" the girls chorused.

Eventually we made it to Harry's and I bid them all goodbye for now, thanking them all for being kind enough to walk me to work so I wouldn't get jumped. Spot shooed Wicked and Joker away and produced a sling of books from his bag filled with extra newspapers that he must've been selling when he stepped I and saved me from getting raped.

"Thought you might want these," he said, trying to sound nonchalant but something in his voice begged me to accept something he wasn't willing to voice just yet. It was odd.

"Thank you," I said, taking them from him. I hugged them against me and looked at my feet, embarrassed by the pregnant silence that followed.

"We'll be in touch, Princess. Stay outta trouble."

And with these parting words, Spot Conlon pulled his cap low on his forward and strolled away from me. I watched him until the ebb and flow of Brooklyners took him from my sight.

* * *

><p><strong>I altered the beginning of the last chapter to fit with the beginning of this chapter. I'm trying my hand at foreshadowing. Lemme know how that went. xD. Also, it's clear that I can't think of new characters, because Nightshade has made a return and so has Mirror, which belongs to my loverly long-time reviewer and friendie Elaine Vivian. Toldja I'd put her in here! <strong>**Oh, and Wicked and Joker are a secret. ;] I modeled them mostly after the March Hare and the Mad Hatter, and maybe the Weasley twins. ;]**

**This chapter was written mostly to the tune "Broken" by Seether. It explains this story so very well, not just this chapter. More foreshadowing! :]**

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	3. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

I remember how badly you hated seeing your old house. The poor skeleton thing, charred and dilapidated. The city was busy with other things so it didn't get flattened right away. Remember when you used to go there often, torturing yourself with old memories that weren't your fault?

You were stuck, you know. Stuck in some sort of mental dugout you'd made for yourself. Did you think you deserved to die with your mother? You don't like talking about it, I know, love, but sometimes I wonder why you went back. You never did tell me.

* * *

><p><em>Shade's Point of View<em>

"I cannot believe you fainted in front of a gang member," Rachel said, as we were sweeping up Harry's store in the morning of our shift.

I rolled my eyes. "I cannot believe you think Spot's in a gang. He carries at slingshot for God's sake. And he's a newsboy. Not all newsboys are in gangs."

Rachel shrugged. "I heard being a newboy is sort of his day job. He's in a gang, Shay. The leader, actually."

I snorted. "And where do you get your information, Rach?"

"Around."

Startled, I glanced at her. Why did it seem as if everyone, all at once, was hiding things from me? A week ago I probably would've written this off as something silly my friend Rachel said, but not now. I felt she was hiding something from me. I didn't like secrets.

I sighed, shuffling down an aisle, shoving dusty tomes in their rightful places on bookshelves. It had been three days since I'd seen Spot last, and I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or upset by this. After putting all the books away, I leaned against one of the back shelves and closed my eyes, thinking.

There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't miss Caleb something fierce. Not just because he usually stood in front of my father and I, taking the bruises and the words himself, but because I felt safe with him. He was my best friend.

I didn't understand how Caleb leaving me could be to protect me. If anything, I felt as if Caleb had cowered out and then ran away to save himself. I couldn't think this way, of course, because somewhere I knew that wasn't the reason. I couldn't blame him for something we all suffered.

"Shade?" a voice called and I straightened up, seeing Rachel hanging at the mouth of the aisle I was in. "Your dad's outside looking for you."

I sighed and then slunk out of the labyrinth of shelves, keeping my head low as I stepped out into the chilly afternoon air.

"Hello, Father," I said quietly to the ground.

"You know," he began. "Now that your weak, insufferable bastard of a brother has run away, I think that it's high time you stepped up to the plate." He frowned. "Is she ready? Hmm, yes she looks ready — not as weak as the boy..."

Suddenly angry, my fists balled at my sides, glaring at the ground. "Caleb is not weak," I hissed and then looked up at him. "And what are you talking about? Ready for what?"

My father grinned. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough, little girl. Let's just say that your brother ran away from his fate — but you can't. You were born to lead them, and you _will_ lead them."

I bristled. "I'm not doing anything for you. Especially if Caleb ran away from it. I'll be damned before I do anything that he ran away from."

"Loose-tongued whore," my father growled and gave me a swift slap in the face. "Honor thy father, little girl."

I straightened up slightly and frowned. "Fine. _Sorry_."

He grinned in a sort of maniacal way. "And make sure you bring me dinner home when you're done here. I'm starved."

At this dismissal, I stepped back into Harry's, shuffling back into the aisles of bookshelves, tossing my head at Rachel who looked at me curiously.

"I saw him slap you," Rachel said quietly. "What happened?"

I shrugged. "He said Caleb ran away from his fate, and that I had to lead 'them,' whomever _they _are."

"It must be awful, if Caleb ran from him. And he was very brave," Rachel said softly.

"I'm going to find him, Rachel. Alive," I said quietly, watching her. "It might be the last thing I ever do, but I need answers, and I'll be damned if I don't get them."

"But what if he's dead, Shay. Dead and not able to talk. What then?"

We both shared a painful silence for my brother.

Rachel would never admit it, but she fancied my brother in the worst way. It hurt her as much as it hurt me when he just up and disappeared, no reason and no way to find him. She didn't share my optimism that he was alive. I believe she thought it better for her heart to believe him to be dead.

We got back to work soon after, handing off pre-ordered selections to those high class woman regulars, and helping those who had wandered in off the street. Eventually, Harry gave me the broom and patted me off towards the front walk, giving me a wink. Funny old man!

I stepped outside, smiling slightly at the startling warm breeze that wafted up the street and tickled my face. It was the beginning of March. It should've been cold air. I got busy with sweeping, thinking about what my father had said to me about leading people. I couldn't be a leader. I was awful at being a civilian, let alone the leader of something.

"Hey, Shade!"

I looked up to see the Double Trouble twosome heading towards me, arms hooked in one another's. Joker and Wicked, I believed they called themselves. Three boys followed behind them. Spot and two others I'd never met before in my life. I sort of waved and then looked around for my father. He wasn't supposed to know I had friends. Who knows what he'd do to them.

"It's swell to see you again, Shade," the girls said, in their funny way of speaking at the same time.

"You guys, too," I said, giving them both hugs when they let go of each other long enough for me to do so.

"Hello again, Shade," Spot said, staring at me like he always did, like he was looking right into my soul. It was unnerving and frightening.

"Hello," I said quietly, glancing at my feet.

"We came to see you so you could meet the gang, Shade!" Joker said, breaking the weird silence between us all.

Wicked nodded and then tugged one unknown boys forward, grinning. He was a half head taller than Spot, give or take, with mousy brown hair that desperately needed cut and yellowish cat eyes. "This here is Silver. Spot's best friend forever and second in command."

He gave me a warm-hearted grin and stuck his hand out. "Heard plenty about you, Shade. It's lovely to finally meet you."

I shook his head, shocked. "Likewise."

Wicked then produced the second unknown boy, a tall, lanky boy with long, thin black baby-thin hair tied back with some twine. He had dark blue eyes and sand-white skin. He was also, I noted, carrying a book of sonnets.

"And this," Wicked said. "Is Lysander."

I found this amusing and charming. Lysander was a Shakespearean name and he looked every bit the part. I wouldn't have been surprised if he told me he once knew the man. I shook his hand as well, sort of blushing when he bent to kiss my hand like a proper gentleman.

"I've also heard plenty of you, Shade. You're lovelier than Spot said you were," he said in a quiet, musical voice.

I glanced at Spot but he wasn't looking at me when Lysander said this. I wondered why that was.

"So you guys are in Spot's gang, yeah?" I asked suddenly, remembering what Rachel had said about Spot being in a gang. I figured now was a lovely time to ask, since I was meeting his friends and meeting them seemed important to him, otherwise he wouldn't have brought them to see me.

Spot's head snapped up at this question and regardless of the hole he was trying to burn in the side of my face, I still stared at them four of them, waiting.

"Yeah. We are." It was Silver who proved me correct.

"And what on Earth would possess you all to want to get to know me?"

"Well, you're—" Joker began but Lysander slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened as if she realized she was about to say something she shouldn't have. I felt left out and angry at this.

"What my darling friend was about to tell you, Shay, is that we just want to get to know you. Spot doesn't stop talking about you," Wicked said, covering up for the obvious faux pas.

Joker gave her counterpart an apologetic smile when Lysander let her go. Finally, Spot spoke up. "Can you guys give me a second with Shade?"

The four of them moseyed off down the road, though Joker and Wicked kept stealing glances back until the boys gave them a shove and they minded their own business. I returned my eyes to Spot and then began sweeping again.

"If you're trying to be my friend, you have a really odd way to showing it. Keeping secrets from me and then meeting your friends. It's just really odd," I said.

"What if I'm trying to protect you, Shade? Ever thought of that?" Spot asked.

I frowned. "I don't need protection, Spot."

"That's the third time you've said my name."

He said it so quietly that it surprised me. I felt bad for snapping. "I say your name plenty of times to my friend Rachel."

Spot cracked a smirk at me. "Oh, so you do talk about me to your friends?"

I blushed. "Perhaps. And you don't?"

He held my gaze, his eyes shifting to something almost passionate. "You have no idea."

I looked up again when Silver came back over, saying something low in Spot's ear. Spot looked around and then nodded shortly. He looked at me and grinned. "See you round, Princess."

"Bye, Shade!" Joker and Wicked called, waving, and then they were all gone.

I finished sweeping the walk and then went back inside. Rachel was staring at me with her mouth hanging open. I sighed.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Shay, that was Spot's gang. You just met Spot's gang," she said, aghast.

I shrugged, setting the broom where it normally went, behind the door. "They're all really nice. But they're all hiding something from me. It's really starting to bother me. What do they know that I cannot?"

Rachel smiled. "Spot's probably just trying hard to protect you. You should see the way he looks at you, Shay. Honestly."

I rolled my eyes. "He looks at me like I'm an obnoxious little girl."

"He looks at you as if he were drowning in the ocean and you've come with the only boat for miles to save him," Rachel said quietly.

I gave her a silly smile. "You've been reading too much, Rachel, for your own good."

"Whatever you say, Shay. Look, I told Harry I was running to the mailbox to mail something. You gonna be okay here for ten minutes while I go?" Rachel said, pulling out a crisp envelope from her bag.

"You're sending a letter? To whom?" I asked, surprised. She had never talked about having family out of town before.

However, Rachel just gave me a silly grin and ducked out of the store. More secrets. Just great. I looked up to see Harry descending from the 'tower' in the little bookstore that was really just a glorified loft.

"Harry, why does it seem that everyone is keeping secrets from me?" I asked him.

He sat down and patted his lap, which I gladly took refuge in. He ran a comforting hand down my hair. "My Shade, do you remember your mother telling you and Caleb about angels?"

I nodded. "She would bring us here and read every single novel about angels," I agreed. "She said that angels often came disguised as humans, in order to help the believers walking the Earth. Like guardian angels."

"Indeed, love," Harry said, smiling his crinkled smile at me. "Perhaps this is God's way of putting people in your life to help you. Now that Caleb is not here to protect you, He is giving you another refuge. Regardless of how dark it seems, my Shade, there is always light somewhere."

I knew he spoke the truth. I knew that in my heart. I just didn't want to believe it. It was almost too insane to believe. "Thank you, Harry. I suppose I should be grateful. I'm so used to being alone, though. How can I possibly get used to having so many people protecting me?"

"Because, my Shade, believe it or not, you are one of the most lovely young ladies I've ever known. It was only a matter of time before someone other than I, Caleb and your mother noticed." He winked at me then and I stood up.

I knew he was talking about Spot, and I knew Rachel thought he kept looking at me like I was something amazing, but until I saw proof myself, nothing would change. Though I had a feeling everything was about to change, and that's what frightened me the most.

* * *

><p><strong>Haha. Once again, this chapter leaves more questions than answers. Don't you just hate that? Well, maybe you don't. Next chapter, we may have some answers. If I feel like it. ;]<strong>

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	4. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The Five Points. The name alone could send even the hardest street rat running the other direction in fear. Even the police went out of their way to avoid passing through, which is how its infamy spread rapidly throughout New York. Any sort of sin could be found there. Prostitution, drugs, crime, mob bosses. It was the temple of the flesh, of carnal desires.

I could remember that day I met your brother so very clearly, in the heart of the Five Points:

_I stared in shock at him, and then lowered my gun I had pointed at his forehead. "Caleb McAllister – son of Joseph McAllister?"_

_For a minute, Caleb forgot about the gun in his own hand. "That's my dad's name. How do you know who I am?"_

"_I've been looking for you and your sister."_

_Caleb now looked scared. "Are you going to kill us?" he asked frantically._

_I put his hand on Caleb's arm – which proved to be the wrong thing to do since Caleb clearly did not like to be touched, as he wrenched his arm away from me._

"_DON'T TOUCH ME!"_

_I gave him the most reassuring look I could. "I'm sorry! I don't want to hurt you at all! You don't understand. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to help."_

"_Help?" The word sounded foreign on Caleb's tongue. Almost like he'd never heard the word before, let alone understood what it meant._

"_Yes," I said. "I want to offer you help. I want to offer you a place where you can live safely, away from your father and everything he's put on you. I want to offer you an escape."_

_Caleb turned around and walked away._

_I stared at him for a moment. Then I followed him. After five minutes, we were on the street. "Where are you going?" I asked him._

_Caleb stopped and stared at me again. "You're real."_

"_Yes."_

"_This is real. What you're offering me. It's... not my imagination playing tricks on me again, is it?"_

"_No. Caleb, I'm real. I'm going to help you and your sister. But I need you to trust everything I say."_

_Caleb fell to the ground, crying. And for the first time in his life, it was truly in happiness._

* * *

><p><em>Shade's Point of View<em>

"She's only a bird in a gilded cage, a beautiful sight to see. You may think she's happy and free from care. She's not, though she seems to be. 'Tis sad when you think of her wasted life, for youth cannot mate with age. And her beauty was sold for an old man's gold. She's a bird in a gilded cage," I half-sang, half-recited, swinging back and forth on the rickety rope swing in a pocket park in Brooklyn Heights.

"Mother Mary, Shade, I didn't know you could sing."

I looked up as Wicked sat down beside me on the rickety swing beside me. I was shocked that her twin was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's your other half?" I asked, after a moment of trying to decide if it was my business to ask.

"Palling around with Lysander. I'm a twin, not a third wheel," she said, giving me a playful wink.

I blinked. "Lysander's her _boyfriend_?"

Wicked laughed. "Don't sound so surprised! Joke's a great person. It was only a matter of time for some guy to realize that. Between you and I, I'm glad it's Ly. He's good for her. Quiet, you know? Very opposite."

I smiled at her. "So you approve?" I teased.

She returned my grin. "Of course. What best friend would I be if I didn't have an opinion on her boyfriend?"

I nodded. I had never had a boyfriend myself, so I didn't know there was etiquette. It seemed there was a great many things I had left to learn.

"So I didn't know you could sing," Wicked said, after a moment.

I blushed. "I can't."

Wicked rolled her insanely light blue eyes. "Don't be modest, Shade. You have a lovely singing voice. Have you taken lessons?"

I shook my head slowly. "I haven't. Not once. Though I think if my mother were still alive, she would've paid for me to have voice lessons."

Something in Wicked's eyes faltered. "I'm really sorry about your mother, Shade. I couldn't imagine the pain you must be in."

I nodded slowly. "What about your mother, Wicked? What happened to her?"

Wicked looked down at her beat-up old shoes. "Cholera. She never woke up. Joke was there with me when it happened. We grew up together, you see. We were supposed to go to finishing school together, in fact."

I smiled despite the story. I couldn't picture Wicked and Joker attending finishing school in stiff dresses and talking like proper ladies. It was an absurd mental picture, like a dog walking on its hind legs.

"You two would have made fools of that finishing school, had you gone," I said, after a moment.

Wicked grinned. "You know it, Shade."

I tilted my head thoughtfully. "If you two were to go to finishing school, then you had to be quite wealthy, yes?"

She smiled at me. "Our families lived in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I'd say we had a bit of money, yeah."

I nearly fell off my swing. "Park Slope is the richest neighborhood in America."

Wicked looked a bit sheepish. "Yes, I suppose. We don't bring it up, simply because we both find this life to be more appealing. When you have money, every bad feeling does not exist. You may be dying deep inside, but you must smile and accept tea and wear stiff corsets and go about your life as if everything is right as rain. It is not a life we wished to live."

"I can see why," I agreed, frowning. "And being in a gang is a better life? Better than being wealthy?"

She smiled at me again. "It is when you are on the right side, and we are on the right side. Not all gangs have negative connotations, Shade. You have to have a force for good to equal out all the bad, and that's what we are."

I nodded and then returned her smile when she stood up. "Off to find your other half?" I teased her.

Wicked gave me a goofy grin, doffed her hat, and then went about her merry way, kicking up dirt as she went. I was left alone for about ten minutes, until I saw Spot shuffling along the sidewalk, appearing to be deep in thought, until he noticed me and cut across the quad towards me.

"Hey there," I said, once he was in hearing distance.

I watched him smile at the sound of my voice but it didn't reach his eyes. How odd. He took the swing beside me, where Wicked had been sitting earlier, and sighed.

"Hello, Shade," he said, after a moment of sitting. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said automatically, staring down at the ground. "Can I ask you something?"

I watched him glance at me, as if debating whether or not to answer flippantly. "Sure," he said slowly.

"Spot's not your real name," I said, as a statement, rather than a question.

"Right," he agreed, visibly relaxing, though I pretended not to notice.

"Then what is it?" I prodded. I felt the need to know, since he probably knew my real name. It was only fair.

"My full name is Benjamin Peter Conlon," he said, and then looked over at me with a smile. "'Spot' is just a nickname."

I rolled my eyes. "No. 'Ben' would be a nickname."

"Sure, but 'Ben' doesn't sound half as frightening as 'Spot' does." He gave me another grin.

"Oh, yes. Everyone run for your lives, it's the feral dog," I teased him and we shared a laugh at his expense.

Spot didn't outright belly laugh. It wasn't like that. It was sort of a chuckle that came from somewhere in his chest. It sent frissons of fire down my arms.

"Shall I call you Ben from now on, then?" I asked curiously, smiling at him.

He shook his head fiercely. "No. Unless you want me to start calling you 'Princess' again."

I blushed. "I didn't exactly mind being called that."

I caught him staring at me from under his cap, his eyes holding something that I couldn't put my finger on. The corner of his mouth tilted up, just a little. "Princess."

I broke our contact first, embarrassed. I don't think I trusted him, per se, since I didn't even really know him. But something about him made me feel like he was someone to be trusted.

After a while, since it was growing late, I had to head back or my father would have my head on a platter. I stopped a few houses down from my own, so my father wouldn't see me walking with a boy.

"Thanks for walking me home," I said, glancing down at the ground.

"Anything for you, Shade," he said quietly, reaching to touch my arm, though he stopped, probably thinking better of it.

"And thanks for finding me in the park. I go there to torture myself," I admitted. "Caleb used to take me to that park all the time."

Something in Spot's eyes clouded over and he looked very, very sad. "I'm sorry he's gone, Shade."

I tore myself from his gaze to stop myself from crying. "Me, too."

After a few minutes, we parted ways and I headed inside. I braced myself for a slap but found my father nowhere to be seen. It was curious, though my learned instincts taught me to be very wary, in case of a surprise attack. However, I found our kitchen door closed. It was never closed. I crept closer, hearing two voices inside. My father's gritty, irritated voice, and a younger, nervous voice I'd never heard before.

"—That's right you idiot! How many times do I have to tell you?" There was a pause. "You are really starting to bug me Kern." My father's voice was deadly quiet — as though he was threatening 'Kern'.

I couldn't hear Kern's response, though, since his voice was quiet and nervous, like mine usually was when speaking to my father.

"I don't want your complaining, nor am I interested in hearing it! You are to do what I say, and you are to do it right," my father continued.

There was another pause and then my father started yelling. "I don't care about what you've done before! This is the most important task, do you understand you buffoon? Now you are going to go and make the best of it, do you understand?"

There was a shuffling inside the kitchen and I scrambled away from the door so they wouldn't know I was eavesdropping. I pressed my back against the wall in the hallway, watching as a short, thin young man brushed past me. I couldn't see his face, since our house was shrouded in the flickering lights of candles, which cast shadows everywhere. My father stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded.

"There are you, girl! Make me dinner! I'm starving!" he barked, giving my arm a rough tug. He shoved me into the kitchen and slammed the door shut.

I only worked half-heartedly, though. I was reeling from trying to understand what my father and this 'Kern' were discussing. I had to find out what they were talking about. Perhaps it would solve some mysteries.

* * *

><p><strong>I know, I know. This is wicked late. But some really personal, emotional stuff happened last week and I had no motivation to write because I was depressed. Buuuuuut everything's cleared up now!<strong>

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	5. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_I'm so very sorry for keeping secrets from you, love. But do you see now, that if I would have told you everything, it would have been too much? It pained me greatly to keep things from you, when I desired your trust more than anything in the world._

_It seems silly to you now, I know. Sometimes you do not remember everything I've kept from you. Sometimes your memories are stolen. But they always come back. I am so glad we were able to right your father's selfishly wrong choice. It would kill me in every sense of the word if you did not remember me._

* * *

><p><em>Shade's Point of View<em>

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she," Lysander recited Romeo's monologue dramatically, for the entertainment of children gathered around outside Harry's store to watch.

He took Joker's hand and placed a kiss on it, holding _Romeo and Juliet_ in his other hand, speaking directly to her this time. "Be not her maid, since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off. It is my lady; O, it is my love! O that she knew she were! She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it."

Joker sent Wicked and I a delighted little smile, which I found incredibly sweet. Joker and Lysander were inseparable, it seemed. Lysander finished his monologue and the children cheered as if they'd seen a very fine play. Even Wicked and I clapped, charmed by the whole thing.

As the children dispersed, Joker came up to us and grinned. "He's unbelievably charming, isn't he?" she said softly, grinning.

"Unbelievably," Wicked agreed, giving me a cheeky wink.

"He's perfect for you, Joker," I said.

She was jazzed as hell, and it was obvious and very sweet. "Anyways, enough about me. Is Shadey coming to our swell little get-together tomorrow?"

"You guys are having a party? For what reason?" I asked curiously as we all ambled closer to Harry's.

"Oh, you know," Joker said, shrugging. I caught her and Wicked exchanging a curious look. "This and that."

"I see," I said slowly, even though I didn't. "What's in it for me?"

"She'll be there," Rachel said from behind me.

All three of us girls jumped and whirled around. Lysander looked as if he knew she was there the entire time. "I will?"

"You will," Rachel confirmed.

"You can come, too, Rachel," Wicked said sweetly.

"We are not exclusive newsies," Joker continued.

"Thanks," Rachel said, looking more pleased than probably I did. "It should be fun."

Right. Incredibly fun. As long as I was allowed to go. Rachel seemed to forget this small little detail. But I didn't.

* * *

><p>"Father, may I go to a party tomorrow?" I asked quietly, staring straight at the floor in the middle of my father's study. He was drinking brandy in a tumbler glass, a crystal decanter sitting on the table beside his chair.<p>

"Who invited you to a party?" he asked after a moment. There was no malice in his tone. Curious.

"My... friends," I said, biting my bottom lip.

"You don't have friends, little girl," he said in a deadly soft voice.

"I know," I agreed, too easily. _What a coward,_ a voice in my head hissed. "But I was invited, and I would like to go."

"Well, stop asking questions and make me dinner, bitch!" Ah, there was that malice that was missing from his voice.

I sighed and turned, shuffling towards the door, until I heard him speak again.

"Oh, and Shade?"

I froze in midstep. It had been a very long time since my father addressed me with a name, nickname or not. Ice trickled down my spine.

"Yes?" I whispered, turning slightly to see my father smirk at me.

"You may go to the party."

* * *

><p>Once again, I found myself at the park. Being at this particular park was nostalgic for me. It made me think about Caleb. Not like I didn't do that constantly.<p>

"Shade! There you are!"

I perked at the sound of my name and smiled when I saw Spot, Lysander, Mirror, Silver, Joker and Wicked all heading towards me. I pushed the hair out of my eyes as they all sat on the ground with me.

"Hey again, Shade," Silver said, tipping his hat a bit.

"Hi, guys," I addressed them all. "What're you all doing here?"

"Free country, Shade, remember?" Joker sing-songed, smiling.

"Right. Must've slipped my mind," I said, rolling my eyes. "So what's with the party tonight? Is anyone going to give me a real reason?"

It was a funny thing, bringing up topics that no one wanted to discuss. It was like being at a funeral. I hated all the touchiness everything seemed to have. How many secrets were being kept from me that nobody could tell me anything?

"Have you ever thought that perhaps we would all like to get to know you?" Mirror asked breaking the thick silence.

I frowned. "I've had this question before and I don't like it. Why won't any of you actually give me some answers? I'm getting really tired of riddles."

They all looked pained and I didn't know why. Wicked and Joker shared a look that said they wanted to tell me but a fierce look from Spot overcame this desire to inform me of the truth. Was it that God awful?

"I have a swell idea. Let's play 'Violets', shall we?" Wicked said, perking up instantly, like a wilting flower that had just gotten watered.

This was her way to steering the conversation away from the secrets and I had to play along. For now. "I will," I said, after a few quiet minutes, though I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Swell! Anyone else? Spot?" She directed her devious grin to the boy sitting beside me.

I gave him a hopeful look and he smiled. "Fine."

"What's the point of this game?" Mirror asked.

"I was wondering that myself," Lysander agreed in his incredibly mesmerizing voice.

"You've never played? You guys clearly are deprived," Wicked said, grinning.

"We can't expect them to know a game we made up ourselves," Joker stage-whispered to her other half. "Basically, I'll say a random word — any one I think of. Let's say Wicked says 'Snow White'. Shade, since you're sitting beside her, you would then say the first word that comes to your head! Let's say you say 'Princess'— then Spot, since you're sitting beside her, you would say the first word that comes to your head. It goes on like that and the goal is to get to the word Violets. Whoever says that word wins!"

"This game is ridiculous," Silver informed us all.

"Don't be such a downer, Silv!" Wicked grinned.

"Well, I'm game," Spot said. "Can I continue where you left off, Joke?"

"Yes! That's the spirit!" Joker and Wicked cheered.

"Well, the first word that comes to my head at the word 'Princess', is Shade," he said simply. I flushed a dark red.

"When I think of Shade, I think 'pretty'," Silver said, shrugging. How embarrassing.

Lysander was next and I, as well as everyone else I'm sure, was wondering if he was going to say something. He looked up slightly and I saw the trace of a smile on his face. "Jessica."

I was incredibly confused at why he just said a name randomly, until I saw Joker blushing. He hadn't been saying a random name. It was Joker's name. That was his word.

"Brunette," Mirror said, after some thought.

"Liana," Joker said and they all made a face, though I wasn't sure why.

Wicked frowned. "Sister."

I tilted my head in thought. "Caleb."

"You think of your brother at the word 'sister'?" Joker asked, looking surprised.

"When I think of sister, I think sibling. When I think of sibling, I think of Caleb," I explained.

"Saved," Spot said instantly. I glanced at him. What the hell did that mean?

"Lysander," Silver said.

"Lucky," Lysander said, and he and Silver glanced at each other.

"How the hell do you get 'lucky' from 'Lysander'?" Mirror asked in confusion. Lysander just shrugged. "Uhm, okay. Four-leaf clover."

"Weed."

"Plant."

I blinked. "Violet!" I exclaimed.

"You win!" Joker and Wicked shouted together.

"Knew she would," Silver said, grinning at me.

"That was fantastic. Let's play again," Mirror said.

"That's the spirit!"

* * *

><p>I had never been to a party before, so when Spot and I came together this warehouse-type place, it looked like it had been going on for a long time. There was bodies everywhere and I could hear music coming from the inside.<p>

"Try to look a little less like you're going to be swallowed whole by a whale," Spot said, giving me a grin.

"I feel like I'm going to," I admitted. "I've never been to a party before. And I can't dance."

"And you think I can?" I shrugged and Spot grinned again. "Tell you what, we'll learn together, that way we both look like fools."

I tilted my head and then nodded. "Deal."

I allowed myself to be taken around, shown off to Spot's friends and introduced to people I figured I would never meet again in my life. Eventually came the moment of truth. Dancing. Oh, joy of joys.

"Don't look so damn excited, Shade," Spot teased me, placing a hand on my hip.

I felt the breath in my lungs leave at such boldness. "Too low," I squeaked.

Spot grinned, moving his hand along the curve of my hip up to my waist. What a slippery boy! "So you have danced before, otherwise you wouldn't have known," he said.

I shrugged and placed one hand on his shoulder and one in his. "Does it matter if I've danced before? Fact is, I don't like dancing and I'm not good at it."

"I think you're doing fine," he commented airily as we moved in a square together.

"Spot Conlon, we are waltzing in a sea of drunk newsies," I informed him. "We are not doing _fine_."

"Are you having fun?" he asked, smiling.

I blushed. "Yes."

"Then that's all that matters, doesn't it?"

Our little glass ball of magic shattered instantly, though, with the sound of a gun shot and lots of yelling. Spot let me go, almost. He kept a firm hand around my elbow and looked around the crowd, gritting his teeth. Joker appeared out of nowhere.

"Spot," she said, looking more grave than I'd ever seen. "They're here."

"Now?" I had never seen Spot get so angry so quickly. He looked almost terrifying.

Lysander appeared beside Joker, his hand pressed firmly against her back. I realized he was trying to comfort her. "They're all here. We have to get everyone out. Right. Now."

Spot nodded. "Lysander, you and Silver evacuate everyone you can. We have to end this." He pulled out a pistol from his trouser pocket and my eyes went wide.

"Conlon, Ly and Silver are our best fighters. They can't evacuate people. We need them," Joker said frantically, looking to be floundering slightly without Wicked or Lysander around. Luckily, I saw Wicked tearing through the crowd trying to reach her. Twin telepathy, I bet.

"Joke, do not fight with me right now," Spot growled at her. Joker frowned but relaxed a little when Wicked reached her, handing her counterpart a similar pistol. Wicked as holding one as well.

"What's going on?" I asked.

All three of them seemed to have forgotten I was there. "Shade!" Wicked gasped. "You have to find Rachel and get the hell outta here. Right now! Get out!"

"I'll get her out," Spot growled and grabbed my elbow again.

"Not until someone tells me what's going on!" I shouted. "No more secrets!"

"Conlon, you gotta tell her something," Joker said, significantly more calm now. Spot nodded and the two girls ducked out of sight, wielding their weapons.

"These people that are here will _kill_ you — or do worse — if they find you. They are dangerous and are here to kill. I need you and Rachel to get out of here. You guys don't know anything about this kind of fighting and I really don't want to see you guys get hurt," Spot said low in my ear, directing me towards the door. "Please, Shade. I _need_ you to get out of here. I need to keep you safe."

I felt us step into the chilly New York air and I turned slightly. "But, what about you? What if you— "

"Don't worry about me, Shade. I've been doing this a lot longer than you have. Just trust me. I know that's hard for you, but I need you to trust me," Spot pleaded.

I nodded slowly, seeing Rachel shoving her way towards us. I looked up at Spot. "I trust you. For now."

Spot frowned. "That's all I can ask for." He bent and kissed my forehead. "Now get out of here."

When I got home, my dad was there. He'd been drinking.

"You're early and you look scared," he commented and stood up. I backed up until my back hit the wall. He struck me hard across the face. "Next time, don't run from my friends."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry, guys. Disney last week and then recovery from Disney this week. Sorry it's so damn late. But it's long and filled with more mystery! Soo... yay? xD<strong>

**Ohhh, and I borrowed a bit from Romeo and Juliet, as you thesbians probably knew all ready. Fun Fact: I hate Romeo and Juliet with a burning passion. Just thought it fit since Lysander is my Shakespeare character come to life. -heart-**

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	6. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

_You frightened me this morning, love. I came into the kitchen to find you sitting on the floor crying. You'd forgotten where you were and it frightened you. You screamed when you saw me. I know you don't remember this, sometimes you don't remember much, but it was one of the few times you actually frightened me._

_I'm sorry I couldn't save you from this fate. Forgive me._

* * *

><p>I hurt all over. My father didn't stop the night I came home from the party. My lip was split and my upper arms were nearly purple from all the bruises. And my head hurt. God, did my head hurt. I didn't have to work today, but I didn't tell my father. He probably didn't know. He was too busy getting sloshed when I was leaving to ask where I was going.<p>

Not that he cared.

So here I sat. In the middle of our skeleton house, the house that my mother was killed in. I came often, just sitting in the ashes, crying sometimes, missing her.

Caleb used to come with me sometimes and sit with me and we would talk about her. The way she made apple pie all the time with this flaky crust that melted in your mouth. The funny way she used to flip her hands when she tied her apron. The way she smiled even if her cheek or her eye was bruised.

She could do none of these things now. And now even Caleb couldn't talk about it with me. He was gone, too.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there. Hours, days, months. It didn't matter. Time seemed to escape me when I revisited our old house. I did look up when I heard footsteps in what was left of the foyer just outside the kitchen where I was.

It was Spot. And then I was confused.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

He looked a little sheepish. "Rachel told me you were here."

"You went to my work looking for me? Why?" I looked away, suddenly remembering my swollen cheek from being shoved into the wall.

"Why, indeed?" he mused and then sat down in the ashes beside me. "Don't you want to know what happened at the party?"

I shrugged. "You won't tell me. None of you tell me a damn thing. What good would it do to ask?"

Spot snorted. "Don't be dramatic, Shade," he said. "You can't tell me you're not curious. I know you too well."

"I might be... _slightly_ curious," I amended, not looking up at him.

"Saturday night, a group of people crashed our party. This was not by accident. They were led by three people who are the most skilled and dangerous people in the country. They are evil, ruthless killers," Spot began. I looked up at him curiously. He looked pained. "Now, my family and I have been trying to stop them for a long time. So have the twins, Silver, Mirror—

"Why?" I interjected.

"They want to take over. They want complete power."

"Complete power of what exactly?"

"Our organization."

I frowned. "You guys are just a bunch of kids. What would ruthless killers want with you guys?"

Spot looked agonized. "I can't really answer that, Shade."

I sat back and frowned again. "Of course you can't. You can never answer my questions."

"I'm not doing it on purpose," he said, in a surprisingly sharp voice.

"Well, my dad told me a bit ago that I had to lead, because Caleb ran away from it," I informed him. "Is that something you're keeping from me?"

His eyes hardened. "Your dad told you that you had to lead his gang?"

"Is that what he meant?"

"Yes."

I frowned and looked away. "I don't want to lead anything. Especially if Caleb ran away from it. It can't be good."

"It's not," Spot assured me. "Listen to me, Shade. I promise that I will explain everything to you in time. Just know that those people that your father wants you to lead are _bad_. Whatever he says, don't do it."

I nodded slowly and then sighed. "I guess that's all I can ask for, huh?"

Spot seemed shocked that I didn't snap or complain about not knowing. "Yeah. For now."

* * *

><p>On Monday when I was scheduled to work again, Harry informed Rachel and I that he had hired another helping hand.<p>

"Girls, this is Kern McAllister. Kern, this is Shade and Rachel," Harry introduced us, motioning to the boy standing in the shadows.

He stepped up and I finally got a good look at him. He was tall and gangly, with messy brown hair and nearly black eyes. He didn't even look at Rachel; he stared straight at me. He smiled at me but it didn't look normal. It struck me a few moments later that he looked as if he was trying to scare me.

"Is Shade your real name?" 'Kern' asked me, still looking frightening. He still hadn't once looked at Rachel.

"No," I said stiffly. "My mother used to call me that. It's a nickname."

"So are you two related or something? You have the same last name," Rachel pointed out, frowning.

"I've never seen her before in my life," Kern said, smiling a little again.

"Likewise," I said slowly and then sighed.

Rachel took it upon herself to show Kern the ropes while I busied myself with my own work. I didn't know who this kid was and it bothered me that we had the same last name. It wasn't a common last night so it couldn't have been a coincidence. Could it?

Anytime this Kern guy did talk to me, he asked about my family. That bothered me so badly. I hated talking about my family but this didn't seem to occur to him at all.

Around lunchtime when I was set free, I stepped outside and looked around. The second I did so, I saw a mop of dark hair that looked heartbreakingly familiar. The body the hair was attached to was walking away from me, down the street, seemingly gliding through the throng of people, like a ghost.

Caleb.

I took off full speed after him. "Caleb!" I shouted. Was it my imagination, or did the boy I thought was Caleb pause for a second? It was only a second though, because I blinked and he was gone.

Again. He was gone.

This simple fact floored me and the tears spilled out, blinding me instantly in the fury in which they fell. I was so angry and confused and incredibly hurt. It couldn't have been my mind playing tricks, could it?

I stopped running after I slammed into something solid and warm. I looked up, apologizing instantly because I thought I'd run into a stranger. However, I was quite delighted to see Joker's worried eyes staring back down at me when I looked up.

"Mother Mary, you look like you've seen a ghost," Joke said, frowning. "Wicked–"

"On it," Wicked answered and stuck two fingers between her lips, whistling three sharp notes. S-O-S.

Instantly, Silver, Lysander and Spot crawled out of the woodwork and they appeared behind the twins. Joker passed me off to Spot, who held onto me tightly while I regained my wits enough to tell them what the hell was wrong with me. Once I had calmed down, I was led to a bench and set down between Joker and Wicked, who grabbed my hands instantly.

"Can you please tell us why you were running?" Wicked asked.

I nodded. "I thought... I thought I saw Caleb. In the crowd. I was running after him."

Something very similar passed in all of their eyes, which I found curious. It was like they all got sad at the same time.

"Grief does terrible things to the psyche, Shade," Joker said quietly, after a moment. "I know when my parents died in our house fire, I thought I saw them everywhere. In all the places we used to go. But they're gone. Caleb is gone."

I yanked my hands from the girls and stood up. "I don't get why you all think Caleb is dead. He_ isn't _dead."

"Nobody said he was dead, Shade," Spot said patiently. They all looked at him, wide eyed, but he was calm. He looked me dead in the eye. "He's not dead, Shade. He's hiding."

Finally an answer. _Finally._ Granted, it wasn't an answer I wanted to hear, but it was a start. I was tired of secrets. So incredibly tired of them.

Then something struck me. "I have to tell you guys something," I said, and then sat down between the twins again. "The other night, my father was threatening some guy in our kitchen. He called him Kern. And Harry hired some help this morning and his name was Kern. He has my last name and he's really creepy. Like, bodies in the cellar creepy."

"Wicked," Joker said, grinning.

"What?" Wicked asked, leaning around me to stare strangely at her counterpart.

"Nothing," Joke said, waving her hand. "So this Kern guy, huh? Think he's related to you?"

"I think so. I hope not, though. He keeps asking about my family. It makes me really uncomfortable," I admitted and then sighed.

Silver grinned at Spot. "Perhaps we should go see what this kid's issue is, eh, Conlon?"

Spot gave him a grim smile. "We may have to."

I shook my head. I wanted to tell them that there probably wasn't much they could do to make him stop, but it wouldn't do me any good. Then, I realized something.

"Joke, you said your parents died in a fire," I said, looking over at her. "Why does it seem like everyone's parents died in a fire?"

Joker frowned. "Because that's another secret, Shade," she said and glanced up at Spot. He gave a curt nod and she looked back at me. "There's... this organization, Shade. A long time ago, they were bandits and thieves. They started fires in the homes of good people. But, about one hundred years ago, a group of people broke away from this organization. A group that would go and warn others about the arsonists."

I blinked a few times, trying to follow. "And what of your family? And Spot's family? And my mother? They all died in fires."

"They all were part of the group against the arsonists, Shade," Wicked said slowly, looking nervous.

"My father didn't die with my mother, though," I said, though all the dots were connecting. "That means... they weren't on the same side. And if my mother was on the side against them, that means..."

Spot nodded grimly. "Yes. Your dad is the current head of the arson gang — the gang that me and my generations have been battling. The gang that Caleb ran from. The gang that killed all of our parents. The gang that crashed the party — and the gang that wants you to be the next leader."

* * *

><p><strong>HAHA! Bet youse didn't see THAT coming! Talk about a plot twist, right? Raise your hand if I just <em>blew your mind<em>! Teehee!**

**Oh, and in case youse guys didn't notice, I've drawn some inspiration from re-reading my Series of Unfortunate Events novels. Just a bit, though. In case some of youse thought it seemed familar and such.**

**Haha. And I LOVE how almost all the secrets are out now and Spot and Shade haven't kissed. Well. Not yet. They will. Soon. ;]**

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	7. Chapter Seven

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

I was still reeling a few days later from being told that I was the bad guy. It wasn't one of those things to be excited about. But, I supposed, I knew it was coming eventually. I just really wished I wasn't the bad guy. I didn't have a bad bone in my body.

However unsettling this news was, I was insanely curious if the random acts of arson were documented in the newspapers. Since this town seemed to thrive on everyone's pain – not to mention how good of a headline random arson must've been – I decided, after seeking Harry's counsel, to venture to the library where he knew they kept archives of all the circulating newspapers in New York City.

Though, I figured the library in Manhattan would be more useful than the one in Brooklyn. So that's where I was headed.

I walked home after getting off work to change into a pair of trousers. It was much easier to walk in pants than to try and make the trip in my dress. I found it curious that my father was nowhere to be found when I went home to change, so I couldn't inform him that I was going out. Not like it mattered. I was just thankful that I didn't have to face him at the moment.

Heading out of my house, I stuck my hands into my pockets and made my way towards the Brooklyn Bridge. I didn't make it that far, though, because the twins were suddenly in front of me, both of their eyebrows raised curiously.

"Where ya goin'?" Joker asked.

I blinked and side-stepped to walk around her. "Manhattan."

They moved as one, stepping back in front of me. "How come?" It was Wicked this time.

"I want to look into the arson attacks on our families. I'm thinking it's probably documented in the newspapers," I informed them.

The twins exchanged a glance and I folded my arms. "Let me guess. Your _boss_ doesn't want me to leave Brooklyn. Well, you can tell him–"

"That's not the reason, Shade," Joker said quietly. "We just worry."

"Worry? Why would you guys worry?"

Wicked spread her hands in front of her. "Sometimes asking hard questions bring answers you're not ready to hear. We're just trying to protect you, Shade. Honestly."

I faltered slightly. She was right. Perhaps I wasn't ready to understand some things. But I had to take that chance. The questions were itching my brain. "I have to do this, you guys. I have to find out for myself," I said quietly.

Joker sighed. "The least we can do is come along with you."

"For moral support," Wicked added.

I nodded and smiled. "I would appreciate that very much."

The three of us hooked arms and we made our way across the Brooklyn Bridge and into Manhattan. We found our way to the library, the biggest one in New York City, and headed inside. The inside of the library was marble and it was bigger inside than it looked on the outside. The librarian at the desk was reading a penny dreadful from London called _A String of Pearls_. Above the desk the young woman was sitting at, I noticed a peculiar portrait.

It was an elderly woman wearing a plain gray dress and a simple silver cameo brooch. Her eyes were staring, unblinking, at the painter, so it looked like she was staring at those viewing the painting. The name below the painting identified her as Mrs. J. P. Norringon. She was unnerving.

It seemed that the twins found her frightening as well, since they both were staring up at the painting with wide eyes. There was what seemed to be an office door behind the librarian's desk. On a gold plate was the name Marcus Shale.

"Can I help you ladies?" the librarian asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes," Wicked said, stepping up from us to speak to the woman. "We're looking for newspaper archives from three years ago."

"I see," the woman said. "And which newspapers are you interested in looking at?"

"Let's see. Probably _The New York World_ and _The New York Journal_ as well." Wicked smiled back at Joker and I. "We'll start there."

The librarian led us down a few aisles, muttering to herself as she browsed through the archives. "Three years ago, did you say?" she asked. "Yes, here we are. 1897 circulation. Were you looking for a specific month?"

"May," we all said at the same time. Curious. Did all of our families die at the same time, then? What did that mean?

She pulled out the newspapers we requested and handed them off to Joker, who was waiting for them with open arms. "If you need any other dates, they're all right here, along with the other newspapers. Let me know if you girls need assistance."

"Thanks," we told her and then crowded around the table as Joker spread out the papers, all of us scanning the lines of text.

"There!" Wicked exclaimed, pointing her stained finger at a headline.

_Mysterious Fires in Three Houses; No Known Cause_

The article went on the describe the series of odd events, two strange fires on Carroll Street in Park Slope, which was obviously Wicked and Joke's families, and then one on Grace Court in Brooklyn Heights, which was my home.

"There's other articles, too!" Joker said, her eyes wide, thumbing through the following days' papers. There was more stories about the fires, more places around New York City having random fires with no known cause and no suspects.

Except for one article, which suggested that the police were thinking it was caused by the refraction and convergence of light.

The twins were chatting excitedly about this finding. It was like they didn't think we would find a thing. Silly girls. However, the thing about these findings that bothered me the most was that they were all written by the same person.

Marcus Shale.

"I'll be right back, girls," I told them and shuffled back to the librarian. "Uhm, excuse me, that door behind you says Marcus Shale. Does he work here?"

She smiled at me. "Why, yes, he supplies quite the sum of money to our library to keep it running. He's taken quite an interest to those strange fires three years ago. He writes for the papers about them."

I nodded. "That's why I wanted to see the papers. I'm curious about them, too," I told her, leaving out all the personal things out of it. "Would it be possible for me to speak to him? I'd love to hear the stories from his mouth."

The librarian faltered slightly. "I'm afraid Mr Shale doesn't stay here for very long. He's almost always somewhere else. I'm sorry I cannot be of more help to you."

I sighed. That was all I could ask for, I guess. I wanted to ask for his home address, just to visit him at home, but it didn't seem very polite to ask. I shuffled back to the twins and watched them put away the newspapers, still chattering happily about this strange and exciting new prospect.

We ambled out of the labyrinth of aisles and Wicked stopped us gently, turning to the librarian. "I feel silly asking, but I'm curious. Who is that woman in the portrait?"

She smiled at us. "That's Mrs. J. P. Norringon. The woman that founded the library in the early 1740s. She was burned at the stake shortly after."

We all shared a gasp. "Why was she burned at the stake?" Joker asked.

"Some people were convinced she was a witch," the woman said and sort of smiled. "Perhaps they were right."

I looked back up at the portrait of Mrs. J. P. Norringon. It was as if she was looking down upon us, listening to us talking about her. Those eyes were so unnerving. The more I stared at her, the more I was sure she was sort of smirking.

She looked like a woman that had a great many secrets. Like the Mona Lisa I'd seen sketched in a school book when I was younger. Both women seemed as if they enjoyed having many secrets.

The three of us left the library, staggered by the weight of the answers that we all wanted to know. For as many things as I felt Spot and his friends were keeping from me, I believe that there were some things that even Wicked and Joke didn't know about what happened to their families. They were as in the dark as I was.

"I'm thinking we should catch some lunch. Let's go bother the Manhattaners, shall we?" Wicked said, grinning.

"Wicked, your ideas are always so wonderful!" Joker exclaimed.

I smiled and walked with them to a restaurant they all seemed to know well. The sign called it Tibby's and the second they walked in, the newsies shouted their greetings to the girls. We sat down at the table with a few boys the twins knew and ordered some sandwiches and some water.

The boys shoved for the twins' attention, each telling funny stories that made them crack up laughing. I smiled and chuckled myself. These Manhattan boys were hilarious! I ate and laughed more than I had in a long time and Joker smiled as she produced a lined wallet from the inside pocket of her waistcoat.

"Lunch is on me, ladies," she said and Wicked shoved her and laughed, making her laugh as well. Silly twins.

The nervous waitress came back to our table, holding a padded envelope in her hands. "Uhm, are you Shade?" she asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah. That's me." I was confused.

"A boy just dropped this off for you," she said and handed me the package.

Immediately I thought of Spot. Not sure why that was. I stuck my thumb under the edge and ripped it open. A thick card fell into my lap, along with an intricate ring. I frowned and picked the card up. In messy script was the words 'The Black Mist killed your mother.'

Probably seeing my face, Joker snatched the card from my shaking hands and gasped. She turned blazing eyes to the waitress. "Who gave this to you?" she demanded.

"I-I don't know," the waitress stammered. "I thought. I thought it was her boyfriend or something. Last week a boy told me to give flowers to a his betrothed because he'd angered her the night before. I thought this was... the same thing."

"Does Shade look like this was the same thing?" Joker said, standing up, all riled up for some reason. "What did he look like?"

"Joke, let her alone. She didn't know better," Wicked said, grabbing Joker's arm. "Sit down and leave her alone."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was bad. Shall I alert the constable?" she asked.

"No," Joker said coldly. "Just leave."

I looked down at the ring in my hand and frowned. "Who is this Black Mist?"

"We don't know," Joker and Wicked said together and I could feel their concerned looks.

"The Black Mist?" a voice said from behind me.

We all looked up at the newsboy who was standing behind me. I'd never seen him before in my life. The twins must have known him, though.

"Do you know who this is, Spindle?" Joker asked.

Spindle nodded, his dark eyes moving from the twins to me. "I haven't heard that name in a long time. I didn't know Spot Conlon still used it."

* * *

><p><strong>More plot twists. The ending is going to be even more shocking now. YAY PLOT BUNNIES!<strong>

****Side note: I have a poll up and am curious as to what you think. For some of my reviewer oldies, you'll remember my Spot and Angel stories, the first things I wrote after my, like, three year hiatus from FFn. I've been recently tossing around an idea for a modern day fic - something I've always wanted to tackle - but I want your opinion. So vote in my poll on my profile and be honest! And if you haven't read my Spot and Angel trilogy, you should (shameless plug). :]****

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	8. Chapter Eight

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"This had better be a joke. Seriously, I can't take it anymore," I fumed, nearly kicking the door to Tibby's off its hindges.

The twins followed nervously behind me, and I felt bad for acting this way, but I couldn't take this sitting down. Even if it wasn't true, someone called the Black Mist had killed my mother, and perhaps Joke's and Wicked's families as well. I couldn't believe that they weren't as outraged as I was.

"Shade, can't we just talk about this rationally?" Joker asked from behind me.

I whirled around and glared at her. "When have you ever been rational, Joker?"

She looked wounded and Wicked glared at me. "There's no need for useless barbs, Shade. We know you're upset but taking it out on us isn't solving anything."

"I don't get how you two can be so calm about this. What if Spot killed your families?" I demanded.

"Spot didn't kill anyone," Joker told me. "He couldn't have. He takes his position very seriously, and he's cared about you longer than I think you realize."

I faltered slightly but I didn't let it show. "People make mistakes. What if he made a mistake?"

"A mistake that could cost your trust in him to disappear?" Wicked shook her head. "Even as impulsive as Spot is sometimes, he would never chance your feelings. He cares too much."

I grumbled and turned on my heel, shuffling down the sidewalk again. The twins followed me, their moods changed instantly. I wasn't listening to them talking, though. I was still reeling. What if Spot was the Black Mist? That meant everything was a lie. He could be holding Caleb hostage somewhere.

"...Anyways, I really don't think you should be thinking about kicking children. It's really frightening that your brain goes there," Joker was saying.

"Oh, come off it, Joke. You're the only newsie I've ever met that forgets Crutchy is even alive. He got taken to the refuge last year and the first thing you say is 'Who?' That's despicable," Wicked countered.

"More despicable than kicking a child, Wicks?"

I stopped walking and turned around to face the twins. "You guys go back to Brooklyn."

They frowned at me at the same time. "We can't do that, Shade," they informed me.

"I need to be alone for a while," I explained. "I think I might go and talk to Mirror, actually. Someone objective."

The twins exchanged a look. "Mirror doesn't exactly like Spot, Shade."

"I know that, but at least she'll be honest with me," I said and sighed. "You guys are his comrades. You trust him. You don't doubt him. I need Mirror. She might not like Spot, but at least she'll give me an objective answer."

Joker frowned. "I'm sorry we can't be of more help to you, Shade."

I nodded slowly. "It's okay. I just need to figure some things out."

The twins hugged me goodbye and then hooked arms, both of them looking back at me as they headed back towards the Brooklyn Bridge. I sighed and shuffled in the opposite direction, towards the Manhattan Lodging House.

Manhattan was different than Brooklyn. I didn't come here often. It seemed bigger. Sometimes Brooklyn was like a little oasis, sort of cut off from everyone else. Then again, I was sort of sheltered.

I stepped into the Lodging House and smiled at Kloppman, the house keeper of sorts. "Is Mirror here?" I asked.

"Sure is," Mirror said, descending the steps and smiling at me. She had a bandana on her head and was holding a broom. "Shade! I'm so happy to see you again!"

I smiled. "I'm happy to see you, too. Listen, I need to talk to you. It's about Spot. I need your opinion."

Mirror's smile faltered a little but she nodded resolutely. "Right, of course. Shall I put some tea on?"

After we had made tea and sat down, I explained everything to her. Spot, the Black Mist, the articles all written by the same man, and the theory that the fires started because of refraction and convergence of light. She was very calm as I explained everything, which I appreciated.

"I know it's wrong to think badly of Spot after hearing one newsie's words, but this isn't my world, Mirror. There are things going on that I don't understand. I've accepted that. But who can I trust? How can anyone expect me to walk around blindly?" I asked, frowning.

"Nobody's asking you to be blind, Shade. Things are just... complicated," Mirror said softly. "Joker was right, though. Spot takes his position very seriously. He has to. Not only is he the leader of the newsies in Brooklyn, but he has also been entrusted with watching over you and Caleb. Not to mention how deeply he cares for you in particular, Shade."

I looked down at my tea, hoping I wasn't blushing. "How can he care about me and keep secrets from me? Does love not seek the highest good of the other person? Why can't he bring Caleb to me? He knows that's the only thing that would make me happy."

"You need to understand, Shade. The world that's been thrust upon you is a mine field. One wrong step and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. Spot has made good work of ensuring that everyone he cares for is safe," Mirror said. "Even those he knows can protect themselves. The twins, for instance. Joker and Wicked have been on the streets for a very long time now, but in small ways, Spot looks out for their safety. Because he cares for them."

I sighed. "I still don't see how keeping me in the dark is doing any sort of good for anyone. I want to help fight. I don't want to be useless."

"You're not useless, Shade. Don't you see? The more your father leaks to you about what exactly he wants you to do, the more we can corrupt his plan from the inside," Mirror said, spreading her hands before her. "We don't mean to keep you in the lion's den, so to speak, but if it means that no one else has to die because of your father and his awful men, then you must make that sacrifice."

I shook my head. "That's never been the problem. I will do whatever it takes to help you guys take down my father." I sighed and sipped my tea. "So you really don't believe Spot is the Black Mist?"

Mirror shook her head as well. "I may not like the guy, but I don't think he's capable of killing someone in cold blood. He's in too deep. He's known his destiny since he was very small. A destiny that's been long entwined with yours, Shade."

I blushed again. "So we were destined to meet, to be in this situation, from the beginning?"

Mirror smiled and nodded. "Have you ever heard the Asian folk story about the red thread of fate?" At my confused look, she continued. "Legend has it, that a red thread is tied around everyone's little finger, binding them to one person. Essentially, their soulmate. This thread that binds them means they are destined lovers, no matter the time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch and tangle but it will never break. You cannot have two soulmates."

I bit my bottom lip. "You believe Spot and I are soulmates, then. That we have so silly red thread around our little fingers that binds us to each other."

"I do believe so, Shade," Mirror said softly. "See how easily it was for me to convince you that Spot was innocent? You never did suspect him fully to begin with. That proves it. You trust him, Shade. And you believe in him."

I nodded slowly and then stood up. "I need to get some air. Think this through, I mean." I smiled at her. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've helped me with. It's been... eye-opening."

"Everything will be realized in time, Shade. Trust me on that!" Mirror called after me and I headed back towards Brooklyn, slowly.

I took my time, thinking everything through. I went back and forth with myself, mostly. I wasn't sure what to believe. The thing that bothered me the most was Mirror's red thread story. Could that be true? Were Spot and I destined to be together? To have to go through this together, like this?

It made my head spin.

I squinted into the distance as I approached the Brooklyn Bridge. Stupid sunset was making my eyes sting. As I got closer, I realized that, ironically, it was Spot Conlon himself, leaning against the railing, looking pensive. I almost didn't want to bother him, because I knew I hated being interrupted while thinking, but there was no other way around passing him.

I stopped beside him and leaned my back against the steel of the Bridge. "Uh, hi," I said quietly.

"Oh, you're talking to me? I can't believe that. I mean, I killed your mother, Shade," Spot responded with a certain malice that made me want to slug him in the mouth.

"You didn't kill my mother, Spot," I informed him.

"You don't believe that. You blew outta Tibby's so fast because of what Spindle said. You don't trust me at all, Shade," Spot said and pushed off the railing, looking irritated.

"But I do trust you! Why the hell do you think I'm standing here trying to tell you that I don't believe what Spindle said?" I gritted my teeth and grabbed his shoulders, glaring at him. "I trust you, Spot. I really do. But this isn't my world. Some things catch my off guard. Like you being accused of killing my mother. I know you're not the Black Mist. Now... calm down and talk to me like a person."

He stared me hard in the eye and I let go of him. "All right," he said, after a moment, and then resumed leaning against the steel beams, looking out at the East River.

"That's it?" I asked, leaning beside him, looking curiously at him. "You're not going to gripe at me anymore?"

Spot looked at me but I felt like he wasn't really seeing me. Maybe he was remembering something. "All I wanted was for you to trust me, Shade. Now that I know I have it back, there's nothing to fight with you about."

I relaxed a little and looked down. Both of our elbows were resting on the railing, our arms hanging out in the air. I tried hard to imagine the red thread around my little finger crossing the space between us and threading around his finger.

No matter how tangled the thread got, it would not break. That's what Mirror said. That meant that no matter was circumstances, or how hard things became, we were still destined to be together. No matter what.

"What are you thinking about?" Spot asked quietly, breaking me from my thoughts.

I looked up at him and sort of smiled. "Nothing, really. Just something Mirror told me a little bit ago."

"Well it must make you happy. I've never seen you smile that way," Spot said and looked back out at the sky. That was the end of that.

But I couldn't help agreeing with him. The idea that he and I were connected by some invisible force that was constantly pulling us back together made me happy. It meant that I mattered to someone. It meant that my life, my existence, my heart, was left in the care of someone else.

And for the first time, I felt a delicious sense of satisfaction.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, ye of little faith! Who actually thought Spot killed Shade's mother? Seriously, give the boy some credit. Silly reviewers! :3. Oh, and the Joker and Wicked conversation in the beginning is thanks to silly, late night texting between myself and Joker is Poker with a J. (Get it? I'm Wicked and she's Joker. Did nobody pick up on that? xDD Moving on.)<strong>

****Side note: I have a poll up and am curious as to what you think. For some of my reviewer oldies, you'll remember my Spot and Angel stories, the first things I wrote after my, like, three year hiatus from FFn. I've been recently tossing around an idea for a modern day fic - something I've always wanted to tackle - but I want your opinion. So vote in my poll on my profile and be honest! And if you haven't read my Spot and Angel trilogy, you should (shameless plug). :]****

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	9. Chapter Nine

**CHAPTER NINE**

"I definitely think we need to have another party," Joker said casually, as I walked beside her and her other half, heading back into Brooklyn. We'd been sent on a mission to see if the Manhattan boys had gotten wind of where Spindle might have gone to. They hadn't heard a thing.

"Oh my goodness, Joke. You are so—" Wicked started, rolling her eyes.

Joker glared. "Don't you dare say it."

"—predictable," Wicked finished and Joker looked like she wanted to punt Wicked across the Brooklyn Bridge for it.

I smiled at them. "Having another party could be fun. Hopefully this time it won't be run in by numskulls."

Joker snickered. "Shade, leader of numskulls. It's very fitting, you know."

I gave her a shove and that was the end of that. They dropped me off at Harry's shop and I greeted Rachel with a hug. Kern was there, too, speaking in low tones with Harry. They both looked at me at the same time and then continued talking.

"What d'you think they're going on about?" I whispered to Rachel, sorting through books on autopilot.

"I don't know. They've been talking all morning. It's quite strange, really," Rachel said and then gave me a sympathetic look before taking a stack of books back into the shelves to put away.

"So, tell me about my uncle."

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Kern's voice slithered into my ear so close. I whirled around and glared at him. "It's bad manners to sneak up on a lady," I said, flustered.

He smirked at me. "I didn't realize you were a lady, Shade. You're wearing trousers."

I huffed. "It's a free country. I shall wear what I please." I continued to sort through my books. "And as far as your uncle goes, you haven't missed much."

"Don't you find it strange that we're cousins and you and I have never met before?" he pressed.

I glared at him. "My father said he lost touch with his brother years ago. So, no, I do not find it strange."

I grabbed my books and headed into the shelves as well to put them away. Kern followed almost right behind me.

"Don't be so cold," Kern said softly and then sort of hovered over me. He was quite tall. "I could ruin you very easily, you know. Your father and I work very close together, you see. I know all your little secrets. I know you've been seeing that boy from the other side."

I looked up at him in terror and he chuckled. "Not to worry, little Pippa. Your secret is safe with me. For now."

Ice poured into my veins. "W-What did you just call me?" I whispered.

I could feel him smirking. "Pippa. That's your name, is it not? Shade is just a little nickname your dear, dead mother gave you. Anyways, just keep what I've said in mind, darling. I'll see you soon."

He skirted around me and I could breathe again. He knew my name. He. Knew. My. Name.

I worked the rest of the afternoon in utter shock. Rachel was talking, I know she was, but it went in one ear and out the other. I couldn't focus on a thing and eventually Harry patted me on the head and kindly told me to beat it.

Brooklyn became an island unto itself very suddenly to me, as I wandered aimlessly through the familiar streets. I thought of my mother, of what she might say to me in this situation. I found myself on Grace Court, though, standing in front of my charred house.

Honestly, the entire thing was not burned to a crisp. Quite the contrary. Only the kitchen was charred and skeleton-like. The rest of the house stood tall and proud. It really was the most morbid thing in the world. My ungrateful father hadn't bothered to even want to rebuild the kitchen so that they might continue to live there. He instructed her to pack up and they moved into a house a few blocks away.

"Shade."

I looked to my left and saw Spot Conlon ambling towards me. If I didn't know any better, I swore I could see a thin, practically iridescent red thread coming from his hand that rested on his cane. I shook my head slightly and rubbed my head.

"Spot, I have to tell you something," I said quietly. "Kern knows my real name."

Spot bristled significantly. "How do you know?"

"He cornered me at work. He said he knew about me talking to you. He told me he worked for my father. And then… he said my name," I whispered. "Spot, what are we going to do? If we get found out, my father will not stop beating me until I'm dead!"

Spot scowled. "Excuse me?" he growled.

I froze. It was the last of my secrets. And now it was gone. What have I done? Spot reached out and grabbed my hand, all his anger gone.

"Shade, listen," he said. "I'm not going to lie. I knew what your father was doing for quite a long time now."

I frowned. "How did you know?"

"Caleb told me when we rescued him."

I felt something like terrible longing slice through me. I needed my brother. I needed him so desperately. I needed him to tell me it would be all right. Spot embraced me, probably because I looked so sullen.

"You listen to me, Shade," he said quietly against my ear. "We're going to avenge your mother, my parents, Wicked and Joke's folks. Everyone that perished because of your father. I promise we will. And I will get you out of that house if it's the last thing I do."

I sighed and leaned against him, thankful for his easy promise. Thing was, I believed him. He leaned back and smiled at me. I sort of lost myself in him, then. I never really noticed how lovely his eyes were. From far off, they looked like gray ice, but now that I was close, they were a very soft blue. Mind you, I was not a sentimental, romantic type. I'd never had a crush before in my life.

But right now, I finally understood what Rachel called 'the butterfly stomach.' Spot gave me the butterfly stomach. For a delicious second, I fancied the idea that perhaps I gave Spot the butterfly stomach as well.

"What's the matter?" Spot asked and I blinked, realizing he was grinning at me. Oh God, could he read my thoughts?

"I, erm, nothing," I stammered and then took a step back, pulling my hands from him with effort. That was it. I was clearly a mental patient.

Spot continued to grin. Oh, he was awful! "Anything I could help with?"

He moved in closer to me, though I'd stepped back. His hand slid to my neck, his thumb brushing my cheek. He was going to kiss me. Oh. My. God. He smiled when the realization hit me and he bent low to capture my mouth.

"Spot!"

Like he'd been shocked, Spot jumped away from me and I was left feeling the pain of what could have been. Spot wheeled around and glared at Silver, who was running headlong towards us.

"This had better be good, Silv," Spot growled.

"It is, Spot. It's Hayden. I spotted him and his gang heading towards where Joke and Wicked are," Silver said, panting.

Spot growled again and then grabbed my hand. "Come on, Shade. We've got to go." I worked to keep up while Silver filled Spot in on details.

"Lysander went with Billy to talk to Raccoon and the larks like you wanted," Silver explained nervously. "Wicked and Joke were gonna hold down the fort and I was on my way back to help them out when I overheard Hayden and his gang deciding they were gonna pay Wicked a visit. I came to find you the second afterwards."

Spot did not look happy about this turn of events, which was really surprising. Then again, I didn't know how big of a threat this Hayden would be towards Wicked. The look on Spot's face said it was imperative we make it to the Lodging House before Hayden.

We reached Prospect Street and Spot threw open the door. "Where's Wicked?" he demanded.

"You rang, boss?" Wicked emerged from the shadows and grinned, Joker two steps behind as always.

Spot and Silver both sagged visibly and Wicked frowned. "What happened? Who's hurt?" she demanded.

"Well, well, well. You made it back before me," a silky, snake-like voice said from behind us.

Spot stiffened and then shoved me towards Joker and Wicked, who pushed me behind them protectively. I glanced at the tall blond boy that stood in the doorway. This must be Hayden. Wicked was physically vibrating. I'd never seen her terrified.

Hayden turned his light eyes to Wicked. "Hello again, Cassie."

"Don't you dare talk to her, you vile pig!" Joker shouted, looking as angry as I must have a few days ago when I thought Spot killed my mother.

"And little Jessie! I see the two of you haven't separated, even after all this time," Hayden said easily. His arrogance was gag-worthy. "And this must be Shade. Good Lord, Conlon. She's a peach."

I felt a body behind me and turned slightly, seeing Lysander standing behind the three of us. He pressed a comforting hand into my back and glared at Hayden. "I think you've worn out your welcome, Hayden," he said in a calm, deadly voice.

The three guys that had come with Hayden looked nervous. "Boss, we should go anyways. _He's_ all ready mad that we came here."

Hayden nodded slowly and then bowed low. "This is where I bid you adieu, then. Goodbye, girls. I shall see you soon."

"Don't hold your breath," Joker snapped, but the boys were halfway gone.

Once they were, I frowned and looked around at everyone. Wicked looked as if a bear just tried to eat her face and Joker looked as if she wanted to stuck her foot down Hayden's throat.

"Okay. What the hell was that?" I asked.

Lysander pulled me aside and we sat on the windowsill. Spot was talking to Wicked in a low voice, holding her elbow comfortingly. Joker was stuck to her other side. I realized they were trying to comfort her.

"That was Hayden and his gang," Lysander said. "You know that Wicked's mother perished from cholera, correct?" At my nod, he continued. "Her father was very distraught from the loss. So much so that he couldn't take care of her. I'm not sure why you know about the upper class, Shade, but when parents can't or won't take care of you, you get taken away."

I frowned. "Wicked got taken to the Refuge?" I only knew about it from Spot mentioning it in passing. The Refuge was a jail for kids. It sounded just awful.

"Worse. She got taken to a mental asylum. Hayden was this crooked doctor there. He would 'perform tests' on her while under his care. Mostly medieval torture. He was fixing to do this procedure that erases your memory when we found Joker when her parents' house was burned down. Joke told us that Wicked was locked up, and she wouldn't go with us until we got her friend out." Lysander frowned again.

I looked over at Wicked. You never would have guessed just by looking at her that she'd been tortured. She was just as silly as Joker. "So you got her out?" I asked.

Lysander nodded and smiled. "Of course. Hayden was furious. He wanted to erase her memories so she couldn't turn him in from everything he did to her."

"Why didn't she go to the police?" I wondered.

"Hayden was a very respected doctor when he was practicing," Lysander explained. "They wouldn't have believed her."

I sighed and then nodded, both Lysander and I looking up to see Spot heading towards us. "We need to move quickly. We can't have a slip-up like this again. We need to end this."

Lysander smiled and I felt myself swell with courage. I would stop my father and his cohorts, if not just to save my own skin, but to save everyone that was fighting for me from facing death as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah. So this is late. My bad. College began and my life got sucked into a vacuum. But I'm back. Promise. xD. Oh, and we finally learn Shade's name. That's pretty sweet, right? xD<br>**

****Side note: I am shamelessly plugging myself for the NML awards. I'm pushing for Biggest Swifty Fan and Shade being the best fanfic. I'll put the link in m profile. Voting begins tomorrow. So you should vote for me if you love me muchly. :3****

****Side-side note: My pretty friend Joker is Poker with a J turned twenty-one on the 24th leaving me in the dust of being 20 until April. -grumblegrumble- Anyways, if this had been up sooner, I would have told you to go spam her shit and wish her a happy birthday. But I still want you to spam her stuff and tell her Wicked sent ya. -heart-  
><strong>**

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	10. Chapter Ten

**CHAPTER TEN**

"You're sure Lysander said a medical procedure that erases your memory?" Mirror asked curiously. Ever since Lysander mentioned that Wicked was the candidate for this scary-sounding procedure, I was curious. I'd gone to Mirror for help and she'd asked Nightshade, since Night was the doctor around these parts.

"I'm positive that's what he said," I affirmed. "Do you know if there's anything like that, Night?"

Nightshade frowned slightly, thinking. "Nae off the top of me head," she said. "But A will definitely ask me da' about eet."

I nodded and smiled. "I appreciate it very much, you guys. Keep me informed."

Waving goodbye, I ambled on home for the night to do some thinking on my own. However, Fate decided to run me into Spot again, who looked lost in his own thoughts, though he smiled when he realized it was me.

"So I was talking to Mirror and Nightshade about that procedure that Wicked almost got," I informed him as we fell in step together without so much as a word.

"Yeah? And?"

I shrugged. "Even Night is baffled. I mean, it sounds sort of strange, doesn't it? A psychiatric procedure that can erase your memories." I sighed. "It sounds just awful."

"It has to be. Nothing frightens Wicked. Ever," Spot said and I watched something flash over his eyes. He was very protective of the twins, I noticed. Not in a bad way, though. I wondered how many terrible things the three of them braved through together to bring them so close.

"Well don't worry about it tonight, Shade. Get some rest and please—" He took my hands and rubbed them, sending sparks of something warm down my arms "—be safe." He gazed at me intensely so I couldn't look away.

I was caught up in him again and it seemed he was just as caught up, because he was bending down towards me. At the very last second, though, he turned and kissed my cheek, but he was so close, I felt his mouth brush mine on the way to my cheek. Dear God.

"Goodnight," he whispered and then walked away, and I was left watching longingly after him, warm all over.

My dad was home. The first thing he asked me the moment I got in the door was: "Who's that boy?"

Inside my chest, my heart started racing in horror. "Uhm, what boy?"

My father glared at me and came over, standing in front of me. This was not a good sign. "The boy who dropped you off here just now."

"Oh…that boy."

"Yes. That boy. Who is he?" My father's teeth were gritted together and I had a bad feeling that he suspected Spot was not just 'some gang member'.

"Kern, the new boy from my work," I lied.

My father grabbed the front of my shirt and brought me up to his face. "Tell the truth now, girlie."

"It's Kern! I promise!" I insisted. But I knew my tone sounded too high. It gave me away.

My father growled. He threw me against the wall and let out an angry roar. "You're LYING! Dammit you're lying and I can tell! There's just no loyalty these days, is there? I'm your father for fuck sakes!" I made a noise of fear in the back of my throat.

Wrong.

"WHAT? You're crying?" My father's anger rolled off him in waves. He bent down and grabbed my shirt collar again. "I can do so much worse. Believe me. This is nothing. You, girl, need to learn how to take it!" He dropped me to the floor again and kicked my stomach with such force that I felt my breath hitch as I gasped for air.

My father growled and bent down roughly grabbing my chin and thrusting my face up to me his cold eyes. "Shut your damn mouth and take it like a man." He moved his hand to my neck and brought me up to eye level. "Now, you listen and you listen well. Stay away from that boy." He tightened his grip on my neck making me gasp for air.

"Stop making those noises!" He shook me.

"I… can't… breathe!" I gasped.

"Too bad!" My father roared. But after a second he dropped me to the floor, to my relief. "Don't you _dare_ hang around that guy—I have a suspicion he's from the other side. You listening girl?"

I nodded in my slumped form, too hurt to speak.

"Good." My father said with satisfaction and then bent down, stroking my cheek as I lay there on the floor. I think I preferred the hitting. "You're learning. Always listen to me. Always." Then he left the room.

I sighed, prodding nervously yet again at the bruises on my neck and the one of my cheek. It made me look weak, like I had taken a hit without fighting back. I hated that. I'd come into the shop this morning and Harry just shook his head and patted mine affectionately. Rachel looked scandalized and wrapped some ice in a towel and held it to the bruise on my cheek to take the swelling down.

None of the customers during my shift said a word to me about the fingerprint bruises on my neck, which I was thankful for. Harry let me go a little early when he noticed Wicked and Joker hanging around outside the shop, probably waiting for me.

"Hey, girls," I greeted them and Joker shoved a basket at me filled with a strange food. I think it was a food.

"Hello, Shade," the both said.

Joke grinned. "Look! They're called French fried potatoes, Shade. Try one; they're really fantastic. They were selling them down at Sheepshead."

"Good Lord, guys. Did you really walk all the way from Sheepshead back here?" I laughed. "Did you not sell this morning?"

Joker and Wicked shared a devious smile. "Oh, we worked."

I rolled my eyes and decided that meant they spent the morning picking pockets on the way to Sheepshead. I decided to sample these French potatoes and found them to be quite greasy but strangely salty and delicious.

"These are not bad," I told the twins and they grinned at me.

"Told you," they responded and I laughed.

However, we all tensed up footsteps clamored up behind us. "We need to go. Right now," Lysander said quietly.

Joke and Wicked turned to face him and I felt my heart racing. "Why?" they demanded.

"It's Hayden and his gang. They know we're here. And they're armed," Lysander said.

The girls didn't waste time. Wicked shoved me at Lysander. "You take her home. We'll go and get Spot and Silver and take care of it."

Lysander caught Wicked's arm. "Are you sure you're going to be okay seeing him, Cassie? Please don't push yourself. You having a panic attack is what Spot would like to avoid."

Wicked nodded slowly. "It's okay. I'll be with Joke. I'm safe. I won't panic."

Lysander let her go and addressed Joker. "Tell Spot I'm taking Shade home. He'll know what to do."

And then we were running, dodging around innocent bystanders and then we started taking a bunch of alleyways. Part of me was excited. We were going to Spot's home. The place where he lived. It frightened and excited me, to be sticking myself in such a personal place. I wondered if I was finally going to meet Spot's little brother.

"Come on, Shade," Lysander said, pulling me behind a very run-down looking building.

He knocked three times in a certain way on the door and it cracked. "Have you been good to your mother?" a whispery voice asked.

"The question is, has she been good to me?" Lysander responded.

The door opened more and he tugged me inside. I realized this was like a coded question and a coded answer and it was very clever. I was impressed. I wondered if anyone on my side knew this code. I assumed not.

"Lysander? Is that you?" a voice called from down the hallway.

A very pretty girl made her appearance and she looked just like Lysander, which I found charming. They were siblings. How sweet.

"Oh, hello!" she chirped and held her hand out. "I'm Helena. And you must be Shade."

"It's nice to meet you," I told her earnestly, shaking her hand. "Your mother must have really enjoyed _A Midsummer Night's Dream._ Both of your names come from that play."

"And she's quick, too! Ah, finally Conlon found a smart girl!" Helena exclaimed and then took my hand. "Come on. You should meet Simon, Spot's little brother."

"Lena!" a babyish voice called and I smiled when we entered a sitting room, where the most adorable little boy sat on the floor, playing with wooden blocks that were cut to look like train cars.

Helena let my hand go to sit down on the couch in front of where Simon was playing. I took a seat down beside her and smiled when Simon grinned at me.

"You're Shade," he said. He had to be four or five years old.

"And you're Simon," I responded and leaned down when he stood up.

He hugged me tightly around the neck. "You're Benny's friend. I love you!" he exclaimed and it made me want to cry.

How could a tiny child like this make me feel so loved so easily?

"I love you, too," I said and then let him go.

"Shade, do you like the park? I like the park. Let's go to the park," he said and planted himself in front of his toys.

"I think Shade's tired right now, Simon. Besides, it's time for your nap," Helena said and picked Simon up. He waved at me and Helena winked and disappeared down the hallway again. I was alone.

However, I wasn't alone for long. I heard footsteps down the hallway.

"Helena?" a very familiar voice called.

My stomach dropped to my shoes. That voice. Caleb's voice. No, no. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Could it?

I looked up and gasped when the footsteps brought the boy to the doorway. "Caleb," I sobbed. I jumped up and he met me halfway, squeezing me so tightly into him that I thought my spine would snap.

"Pippa, I'm so glad you're all right," he whispered. I could hear the tears in his voice. "I hope you're not angry at me for leaving you behind. I'm so sorry for leaving you alone, sweetheart. Please forgive me."

I laughed softly through my tears. "I'm not mad anymore. I've missed you so much."

We hugged for a long time, until Caleb let me go and we went and sat back down on the couch. I had so many unanswered questions that I wanted to address and it seemed Caleb had questions of his own. I heard the back door open again and I looked up when Caleb squeezed my hand.

"They're back!" Helena shouted, closing a door and rushing into the sitting room with Caleb and I.

The twins, Silver and Spot came into the room, looking slightly ragged but very triumphant. Except for Spot. He looked tired and he was breathing heavily, his eyes bright with fear until he spotted me on the couch beside Caleb.

He approached me. "I thought— I wanted to make sure—"

I could not move my eyes from his. They were intense. They were passionate. They were the eyes of someone who feared they lost an extremely important person. He embraced me, but it was not a hug between friends. It was something deeper.

"You're safe," Spot breathed in my ear.

And then the world didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter that Caleb was back in my life. It didn't matter that everyone was watching, because Spot bent down and finally closed the gap between us and kissed me.

* * *

><p><strong>Finally, right? Not much else to say except you should votenominate me for the summer FF awards. The link is in my profile. Go crazy, because then I would love you forever. :3  
><strong>

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Time stopped; time was racing.

If you've ever been kissed for the first time, you probably are too caught up in the moment to even realize what had just taken place. But if you felt like you were running for your life, most of your life, and the only boy in the universe that seemed to understand gave you this first kiss… well, maybe you could understand why I was so NOT caught up in the moment it happened.

Spot was all muscle and heat and a most delicious feeling I couldn't describe. He held my elbows as if I were going to evaporate from his arms right there and he kissed me like he would never see me again. My brain was working overdrive, and yet, I was thinking nothing at all. For that split second, the entire world was right.

He broke the spell first, leaning back slowly to stare down at me. I was too choked with emotion to do anything but stare back. Love seemed a far reach from what just happened, but I could finally identify with all the flowery sentiments. They made sense now.

Something inside me broke, and I dissolved in tears. I was crying for too many reasons and not enough. I was so overjoyed at seeing Caleb again, yet hopelessly buoyed by my father's desire for me to lead the gang that rivaled Spot and my friends. Nothing made sense, and yet, everything was right.

Spot was very patient, just sort of hanging on to me, though I wondered if it had more to do with the fact that he wanted to hold onto me instead of just trying to comfort me.

"I'm sorry for not telling you I was hiding Caleb. I couldn't get his location away, because if you knew, your happiness would tip off your father. I couldn't risk the both of you getting hurt," Spot whispered in my ear.

"I'm not angry with you," I sobbed. I didn't think I was. I was _happy_. Caleb was alive, Spot kissed me. I was beyond elated.

After I'd finally calmed down enough to sit back down on the couch, Spot nodded that everyone could rejoin us again, since they'd all stepped out to give us some privacy, I supposed.

"So what happened with Hayden?" I asked.

"Yes. What _did_ happen?" Joker asked, eyeing the boys with a most unusual look. Did she actually looked miffed?

Spot smiled at me. "We made Wicked and Joke lay low while we took care of Hayden," he explained to me.

Ah, that's why Joker looked so angry! Spot had made them sit on the sidelines. Wicked, however, looked sympathetic. I wondered if she knew that Spot had made the right choice in making them stay out of whatever scuffle had ensued.

"Anyways, so we talked to Hayden," Lysander continued.

_Talked?_ It didn't seem like you could talk civilly with that man. He was so frightening that any sort of exchange with him would probably leave me shaking in a corner. He unnerved me.

"And?" I promped.

"We're going to meet with the Black Mist in two days," Spot said, though his mouth was set in a grim line. "Hayden is arranging the meeting."

"So what the hell are you guys going to do? Sit around and smoke cigars?" I demanded. "You aren't going. None of you. End of story."

"The Black Mist doesn't want any of us," Lysander told me. "He wants you and Spot. Just you two."

I snorted. "Then I'll go alone. None of you should get involved. It's my fight."

"Princess, it became our fight when the Black Mist slaughtered our families," Spot said gently. "We want to help you overthrow your father. That's why _I'm_ going to meet with him. Just me."

"Spot Conlon, don't be blind," Joker said. "You can't go alone. The Black Mist is probably going to have goons crawling all over the place. One wrong word and you could get killed."

Spot smiled but it was cold. "If he wants to negotiate like gentlemen, he'll keep his friends out of it. But I won't be unarmed and blind, Joke. Count on it."

I frowned. "I still don't think you should go alone. He asked for us both. Why can't I come?" Spot glared at me but I pressed on. "He'll know something is up if you show up without me. Then all bets are off."

"She has a point," Silver said, though he ducked his head when Spot threw him a terrible sneer.

"Shade isn't coming," Spot informed him.

"Like hell I'm not," I exclaimed.

"Pip, listen to me," Caleb said quietly and I silenced my defiance to listen to my brother. "You are our ace in the hole. If you get injured or killed, that's it. Everyone loses. We have to protect you. All of us."

I kept my mouth shut for a long few minutes, chewing this information over. "Fine," I said simply.

"Fine?" they all exclaimed at once, which I found hilarious.

"Yeah, fine. Can't argue with that logic," I said and then shrugged.

They all just gaped at me and I started laughing again, feeling momentously better than I had in a very, very long time. Smiling, Spot put his arms around me and I leaned against him. Joker cleared her throat loudly.

"All right. Let's all go before the two of them rot our teeth out with their sappiness," she said and shoved everyone out, winking at me before she disappeared as well.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Spot said quietly, threading his fingers through my tangled mess of hair.

_Not much of anything,_ I thought, which was very true. I couldn't breathe and look at him at the same time. I couldn't say that, though. It was pathetic. "I'm thinking… I need a bath," I said finally.

"A bath?" he asked, sounding amused.

I looked up and gave him a silly look. "Yes, a bath. You know, a rag, water, soap…" I trailed off, though he finished for me.

"…Naked. I know the drill."

His eyes softened to such a blue that could only be described as a cloudless summer day. I tilted my head and smiled.

"Why, Ben, are you flirting with me?" I asked, placing a hand over my chest playfully.

"Indeed, Pippa, I am," he teased back and then bent to claim my mouth again, before I could say anything else.

* * *

><p>After a heartfelt goodbye to Caleb, I promised everyone I would not express my emotions around my father and give away that I knew where Caleb was or that everything just changed in my world in a few short hours. As long as my father didn't ask questions, which he usually didn't, I would be fine.<p>

The problem was not keeping secrets from my father and acting normal. The problem was resisting the urge to punch the man in the face for taking so many innocent lives. But I knew he would pay for what he'd done, in two days, when Spot went to meet with him.

I knew my father was probably dirty and underhanded, so he would definitely have some tricks up his sleeve, but Spot had his own tricks. I was pretty confident in the fact that Spot would win if there were ever to be a scuffle between him and my father.

Honestly, I wasn't worried too much about leading my dad's gang after he perished. I didn't want anyone else to lead, because it would just prolong the suffering, but I wanted it disbanded. I was not going to war because of some old fighting about some property anymore. It was time to let it go or reach a compromise.

Going through the motions around my father was tedious. I was not the same girl that I was before I met Spot. I was stronger, my attitude had toned down a little bit, and I'd let people in when I hadn't before. I was changing, for the better. I no longer really cowered from my father so much anymore, though I did just enough to avoid getting hit so often.

It was like something inside me snapped and I just wasn't going to take it anymore. I wasn't going to take the glares, the taunts, the horrible names, the shoves, and the hits. I just didn't.

However, when my father was gone for the day on some mysterious errand, I went snooping around in his study. Before, I wouldn't have dared to even lay a finger on the doorknob. But I wanted answers.

Inside one of his desk drawers, I found an odd assortment of letters and papers. The letters, I figured, were a correspondence between a doctor and my father. Why was my father speaking to a doctor? But after reading through one letter, I found that my father was inquiring this doctor about some symptoms I had after my mothers' death. If I'd had any symptoms, other than the obvious amount of grief, then this was news to me.

My father went on and on about how hysterical I was, all the time, crying and screaming, and, he said, I was telling him about strange dreams I was having, in which she was an angel and she was telling me to do things. I had never read such a lie in my entire life!

This doctor, however, seemed to have heard this story before. After my father had reassured him that my hysteria couldn't be cured by the usual means, the doctor agreed to make the trip overseas from London to perform what he called a 'lobotomy' on me, which apparently was a procedure that, not only calmed your hysteria, but erased your memory of the traumatic thing that sent you into hysterics.

"This sounds an awful lot like what was going to happen to Wicked," I said aloud. Hearing it out loud, in my voice, slammed me back into reality. My father was arranging for me to have this asinine procedure done on me!

I shoved all the letters back into m father's drawer and flew down the steps, grabbing my shoes. I had to tell Mirror and Nightshade! I had to tell Spot! In my rush, I noticed an unmarked letter come through the mail slot. I threw open the door and glared around but nobody was there.

I snatched the letter from the ground and peered inside to see a note scrawled hastily on thick card stock.

_Beware the birth of May. – KM_

I didn't know what that meant, or whom the initials belonged to, but I stuffed the note into my pocket and ran like hell towards Manhattan. I threw open the Lodging House door and seized Mirror's arm.

"Shade! What are you doing?" she shouted as I hauled her onto the walk and forced her to come with me, towards Night's house.

"I'll explain when we get to Night's house!" I promised and we ran the whole way there.

I rapped on the door and Nightshade answered, looking wide-eyed between the two of us.

"Lord, wha' nae?" she demanded.

"It's called a lobotomy," I blurted. "The medical procedure that wipes your memory. I found it in my father's desk. He's been receiving correspondence from a doctor in London who does them. He's convinced the doctor to come here and perform it on me, but there wasn't a date mentioned. And then I got this." I shoved the card stock at her.

Nightshade motioned Mirror up and both girls peered down at the note. They both frowned.

"The birth of May is a poetic way of saying May first. A fortnight from now," Mirror said quietly.

I shook my head, confused. "But what does it mean?"

"It's a warning," Mirror said grimly. "Someone knew you were going to be snooping around in your father's things today. Someone who doesn't want your memories wiped. KM."

"I don't know who KM is, though," I told them, shaking.

"Whose name that you know begins with the letter K?" Mirror asked, though all three of us knew exactly whom it was who sent the warning.

It was Kern.

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><p><strong>The next chapter is the last, because I said so. Don't worry. I'm leaving it open for a sequel, if you want one. You might not want one after what happens next chapter, which is almost done. Just saying.<strong>

**Not much else to say except you should vote/nominate me for the summer FF awards. The link is in my profile. Go crazy, because then I would love you forever. :3  
><strong>

**Hope you've enjoyed. Love me with a review? :]**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**CHAPTER TWELVE  
><strong>

"Why would Kern want to help you? I thought he was on the other side," Mirror said and I gave her a wry smile.

"No. We're on the same side. Technically, he should want to help me."

"Don't be fresh, Pippa Mcallister," Caleb scolded and I reached over and squeezed his hand, just because I could.

"So what are we gonna do about it?" Lysander asked.

All eyes turned to Spot sitting next to me, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on my palm in his lap. "If Kern wants to be on our side, then we have no issue with him. As much as I despise having him on our side."

"Do you think he's double-cross material?" Silver asked.

"Nobody who double-crosses us looks like double-crossers," Wicked said, a little bitterly. "We can't trust him. He scared Shade. More than once."

I shook my head. "He scared me, true, but he's just as in the dark about everything as I am. Or, was."

"You're right, Wicked. We really can't trust him," Spot said, surprising us all. "But he's not given us tangible reason to not give him a chance. The more people in to protect Shade the better. Wouldn't you agree?"

Wicked looked up and smiled at me. "Definitely."

Comforted by her smile, I looked at Spot. "So what's our next move?"

"The meeting with the Black Mist tonight. Whatever he wants to discuss will end tonight," Spot said and then sort of smirked. "We're going to take him down."

Joker grinned. "All ready on it. Wicked and I have birds out to all our factions across the city. They're ready. Just say the word."

Spot nodded and smiled at the twins. "You girls are saving my ass."

"Wouldn't be the first time," they responded together and then laughed.

"So where do I come in?" I asked innocently, hoping they'd all forgotten that they'd agreed to leave me behind while they did their dirty work.

"You don't," every single person in the room said.

I glared at them collectively. "Not fair! This is my life we're talking about! Spot, don't do that!" I exclaimed and then stood up, blushing slightly when Spot grinned at me.

Like he didn't know that kissing my fingers left me dizzy and wobbly inside. I tried to return to my original irritation but I found myself flopping my arms slightly and sighing.

"Please don't leave me behind," I said softly.

"Sweetheart, we're not doing this on purpose. We're trying to protect you," Caleb said, standing up. He came around and held my upper arms in his hands, peering at me. "Besides, the twins are staying with you."

"WHAT!" they shouted and stood up, talking at the same time with wide gestures. I smiled at them.

"Girls, calm down," Spot said easily and then smirked at them when they seethed at him. "I won't be long. I don't need this to take longer than it needs to. You aren't missing much."

"Right. We're just missing taking out the bad guy," Joker grumbled as she and her counterpart took their seats again on the floor, sporting the same pout under their silly top hats.

"So it's settled. Shade and the twins are staying here with Simon," Spot said, grinning when Wicked stuck her tongue out at him.

I sighed and slunk from the room, dragging the twins with me so the boys could talk strategy and because they looked like they were trying to decide who would get to strangle Spot first. In the makeshift kitchen, I found Helena talking with a short blonde girl whom I'd never seen before in my life. Wicked made a face.

"Liana, who let you in?" she demanded.

"That's no way to talk to your sister, Cassie," the blonde said.

"Wait a second. Wicked, you have a sister?" I asked, turning to her.

"Ugh, and you're still going by that stupid nickname? It doesn't suit you, Cassie," Liana said, rolling her eyes. "Hello again, Jessie."

Joker rolled her eyes as well. "Don't talk to Wicked like that, Liana. And just what you doing here anyways? Spot's sort of busy at the moment."

"Just tell him I came by to give him my love," Liana said and then left the room, slamming the secret door behind her.

"Okay, what was that?" I demanded.

"Don't ask. Seriously," Joker said and patted me on the head.

Eventually the time came for the boys to leave. I sat on the couch and pouted. Once again, I was left out of things that concerned me and I hated that. Even if it was for my own good.

"We'll be back soon, Pippa. Don't look so cross," Caleb said and bent to kiss my forehead before leaving Spot alone with me.

"Go on, then. Tell me to suck it up and smile or something," I told him, waving my hand in annoyance.

Spot smiled and then sat beside me. "I'm not going to tell you that. I'm going to tell you that you need to stay here so that I can have you to come home to when I'm done."

His brutal honesty disarmed me and I knew that's what he intended when he flashed me a pirate smile. He leaned over and kissed my mouth, leaving me breathless before he got up and left with the boys.

The twins and I busied ourselves with taking care of Simon, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was hatching a plan of my own. An escape plan. The boys had left behind some extra rope and it was good enough.

"It's getting late. We should get Simon in bed," Joker said softly to us and then stood up. "Come on, kiddo. Time to get ready for bed!"

Wicked got up to help her and I smiled. Time to set my plan in motion. I got up and grabbed the rope and a chair from the kitchen, dragging it quietly down the hallway towards Simon's room. Both girls were in the room and I seized the opportunity.

Slamming the door shut, I yanked the chair and put it under the doorknob to hold it shut. I looped the rope around the doorknob and then secured it around a wall sconce nearby, wrapping the rope around them both a few times before I tied it off in a very sloppy looking knot.

"Shade! What in God's name are you doing?" Wicked called through the door.

"I'm sorry, girls, but I can't let Spot face my father alone. I'll be back for you!" I called and yanked my boots on as I left the safe house.

There was only one place I knew my father would tell Spot to meet him and that was at his warehouse so I decided that was the only logical place to begin looking first. I ran the entire way there, not stopping to catch my breath. I pushed the door open and crept inside, tip-toeing down the stairs.

"Ah, Shade. I was wondering when you'd get here. Restrain her."

I yelped in surprise when hands grabbed my arms, twisting them painfully around my back, so much so that it nearly brought me to my knees. Spot turned and glared at me, starting towards me but a large man grabbed his arms as well, twisting them the same way to hold him still.

"I told you not to come, Princess," Spot said, his voice thick with emotion.

"You knew I would," I said softly and watched Spot close his eyes in pain.

"How touching," a voice said and we both looked up as a man walked out of the shadows, holding a pistol. It was Harry Harlow, the man that owned the bookstore I worked at.

"Harry?" I said in disbelief.

He was dressed immaculately in white pants and a white shirt, though there was a spattering of red across his shirt that looked like… blood. And the pistol was still smoking. Who had he shot?

"Hello, little Shade," Harry said and smiled coldly at me. "Let me introduce myself to you properly. I am the Black Mist. Your father and I knew each other quite well, however, he was never the man behind the mask, if you will."

I gritted my teeth at him and glared. "My father didn't kill all those people? _You did?"_

Harry grinned at me. "Indeed. You see, little Shade, your father was nothing more than a drunkard I found lying in an alley. He was my perfect mouthpiece. You see, I've crafted the perfect scheme. Your father instills years of fear by beating you mercilessly at my will, while I hire you at my bookstore and offer you solace. You trust me, don't you, little Shade?"

"Not anymore! I hate you! You killed everyone!" I shouted. Harry stalked over to me and slapped me hard across the face.

"Show some respect, you vile slut," he hissed. I gritted my teeth again and tears streamed down my cheeks. "Now, the only good thing your father did was getting a doctor to come here and perform surgery on you. And good thing, too. I've just told you my entire plan. Silly me." He held my chin in his hand and smiled at me. "Lock her up until it's time. And leave the boy with her."

I wasn't sure how long Spot and I were tied up in the damp cell, though I wasn't aware of my surroundings. My vision was fuzzy and I didn't know when day began and night ended. Something was wrong with me, though I couldn't put my finger on it. It was as if something was clamping down on my brain, not letting me remember exactly how I'd gotten there or what was going on.

Vaguely, I was aware of being moved and then settled in a chair. My vision swimming, I felt bands going around my wrists and my ankles and one around my middle. A doctor in a white lab coat hovered over me, his voice garbled in the haze of my brain. I didn't know what he was saying. Something shiny was in both of his hands, metal that caught the light.

He placed something cool and hard slowly beside my eyeball until I thought he was going to pop it like a grape in his hands. He raised the little metal hammer in his other hand and came down. There was a crack and then a black sheet covered my eyes.

And just like that, I was gone.

_Forgive me, Princess._


	13. Epilogue

**SHADE  
><strong>

**EPILOGUE**

Three months. That was how long it had been since he'd seen Shade get her life stolen from her. He hadn't seen her, he hadn't tried to look for her. But his birdies told him that she was picking up the pieces slowly but surely. She'd been reunited with her brother Caleb and life looked bright, at least for her.

But he would never be the same. He couldn't forget her even if he tried. She would always take up a space in his heart that nobody would be able to fill. Shade was that girl – his girl – and nobody would ever be able to replace her.

"D'you really think you did the right thing? Letting her go, I mean," Joker said quietly, from his right.

"Yeah," he said, after a moment of silence. "We took care Harry. He can't hurt her anymore. And Caleb is home. She has everyone she needs."

"She needs you, too, Spot. Just because she can't remember you doesn't mean her heart has forgotten you," Wicked said, from his left.

"I liked you two a lot better when you were obnoxious instead of wise. It's creepy," he said, giving the twins a weird look.

Both Wicked and Joker's faces light up at the same time, in that strange way they always had. "We can certainly return to obnoxious if you like, Spot," they said, in their equally strange way of speaking together.

"Sorry I complained," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he watched the girls head into the Lodging House, congratulating each other on their effective annoying habits.

Sometime later, he found himself meandering through the Brooklyn sidewalks, doffing his cap apologetically when he accidentally bumped into someone. His attention was pulled to a very pretty dark-haired girl holding a wicker grocery basket, seeming to be getting very annoyed with a man that was selling fruit. He looked at her like a wild animal that was sizing up his prey.

Against his better judgment, he turned on his heel and bee-lined towards the pair. "There you are, love. I thought I'd lost you." He turned and winked at the man behind the cart. "My _wife_ likes to wander off on her own. I'm sure you understand." He turned his attention back to her. "Are you having any trouble?"

The pretty girl glared at him, but softened when she must have noticed the way he begged her with his eyes to play along. "Ah, some. It seems this gentleman refuses to give me apples until I give him a kiss."

Spot turned a caustic eye to the now nervous-looking man at the fruit cart. "I didn't realize that was the new form of currency in the market today."

"Uh, here. You can just take the apples, no charge. Sorry for the hassle, miss," the fruit man said, shoving a bag of apples into Shade's hands.

To keep up the act, Spot extended his arm to her, which she took albeit begrudgingly. She looked as if she'd rather been harassed by the fruit man than take any sort of help from him.

"I didn't need your help, you know. I was doing fine on my own. I had everything under control," she said in a hushed voice, since they were not far enough away from the fruit man yet.

Spot smiled. Where had he heard that before? Deciding to be masochistic, he said, "Right. So you'd rather I would have let him continue to make you uncomfortable? I think a 'thank you' is in order here."

She blinked and paused, turning to stare at him. He held his breath, wondering if she remembered him. If she remembered this argument, from the very beginning, and was remembering that she loved him, that he loved her. However, something didn't connect in her brain, and she softened slightly from the feeling that she should remember him, but did not.

"D-Do I know you?" she asked softly, her strange eyes boring into his own.

He smiled again. "No, you don't know me. But I know you." Nervously, he extended his hand. "Spot, is what they call me. Spot Conlon."

"Shade," she said, without thinking. She slipped her hand into his own. "Well, it's really Pippa. Though everyone calls me Shade."

He bent and kissed her hand. "We were very great friends, you and I, in another life."

She smiled in a way that made him wonder again if she was trying to remember him but the lobotomy pulled her up short. "Do you believe in the red thread of fate, Mister Conlon?"

"I'm not sure I've heard it, Miss Pippa," he told her, smiling when he caught her teasing smile.

"I cannot recall where I've heard it, but someone told me that you are connected to your soulmate via a small red thread around your little finger, and that the thread can be twisted and mangled, but it cannot be broken." She lifted her eyes and smiled again. "Do you believe such a tale?"

"I believe so, Miss Pippa. I believe that no matter what, you and your soulmate will find a way to be together, no matter what circumstances have befallen you." Spot smiled. "Your brother is coming this way. Good day, Miss Pippa."

Just as he turned to go, her hand shot out and grasped the elbow of his shirt. "Will I see you again?" she asked curiously.

"Look for me on the street corners. I sell newspapers," he told her.

She straightened up slightly and smiled. "Then I shall have to think of an excuse each morning to buy a paper," she said casually. "Good day… Ben."

At the mention of his Christian name, Spot turned fully back around and stared with wide eyes at Shade, who smiled at Caleb and then took his arm when he offered it to her. She gave him a coy smile from over her shoulder and Spot turned and walked down the street, whistling brightly. Somewhere in his head, he heard a familiar whisper.

_So it ends, so it begins._

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><p><em><em>**So all two of you are probably wondering what the hell you just read. Let me explain, briefly since I tend to get long-winded and annoying. I didn't like the direction that GONE was going in, so instead of re-writing it to a better direction, I decided to let it hang here open-ended and let you all decide how the characters end up. I know, that's lame and everyone hates writers that do this, but I'm doing it anyways. So hush.**

**Hopefully you liked where this ended, because I do. I think it's interesting. :]**

**Anyways, reviews?**

**CTB!**

**xx Wicked  
><strong>


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